Engraved in Pink
by Optic Red
Summary: A walk though a snowy wonderland prompts Scott and Jean to relive the good ol' times of when they were the only students at the Institute. Chapter 12: Magneto, SWAT, and...romance flicks? R
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them. If I did, X-men Evolution will sure as hell not end in the Fourth Season, but, sadly, that's the way things are looking right now. Damn WB....

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. Takes place in the same timeline as Ruby Quartz. 

Pairings: Scott/Jean

Rating: PG 13**__**

**_PINK GRANITE_**

****

**_Chapter One: Prologue_**

            "Mmmm, isn't it beautiful?" Jean Grey asked as she strolled through a snowy paradise. Beside her, Scott Summers nodded his head in agreement, his ruby glasses reflecting the sight before them. 

"It sure is," he replied, one arm casually wrapped around her shoulders. "I'm glad Professor took the others on another cruise. Gives us some time to be alone, just like when we were the only students here." He gave her a quick squeeze as she curled an arm around his waist. The two ambled along in comfortable silence for several minutes, the only sound the soft crunching of snow under their boots.

Jean rested her head lightly on his chest as the couple made their way through the forest to the lakeshore, long red hair draping over Scott's upper body. Finally, she spoke up. "I miss this," her voice was soft, "Don't get me wrong - I love the others and they're like family, but things were just so much more simple back then, you know? Before the X-men, FOH, Sentinels, the Brotherhood.... Cyclops." She looked up at him with bright emerald eyes to find him already staring at her. With her cheeks painted a light shade of pink from winter cold, Scott, not for the first time, found himself musing on how beautiful she was. 

"Come on, Jean, Cyke ain't that bad," the young man grinned down at her. "He's the leader; he's cool, smart, powerful, looks hot in blue spandex...." he flexed his bicep for emphasis.

"....not to mention stiff, uptight, anal-retentive, arrogant-" the redhead started before she was interrupted by the feel of soft lips melting against hers. Scott bent down and captured her in a kiss that left the young woman breathless, dizzy and knees weak with desire. They broke the embrace far too soon in Jean's opinion.

"Thanks," Scott replied smugly, "You do wonders for my ego."

"Like the thing can get any bigger," Jean retorted, smacking him lightly in the cheek. 

"Jean, you know that first and foremost I'm Scott Summers. The guy behind the shades? You know, your best friend? Your fiancé?" he elaborated. It's been a little over a year since he proposed to Jean on Christmas Eve - after nearly scaring the wits out of her, that is. The whole ordeal had made him overly nervous and tense, which caused Jean to believe that he was going to end their relationship. It came as a complete surprise when Scott finally bent down on one knee and asked the beautiful telepath to marry him that night. 

"And he loves you more than anything in the world," he finished, bending down for another kiss. Unknown to her fiancé, the snow from the branch of a nearby pine tree lifted into the air and floated towards them. The redhead telekinetically shaped it into a giant ball as it became charged with psionic energy.

"Even after this?" Jean asked innocently, flashing him one of _those_ smiles. Instantly, Scott knew that he was done for. He turned around just in time to feel the full affect of her frosty attack.

"Ugh, I'm all wet!" Scott sputtered out as he spat out mouthfuls of snow. His whole face was covered in the white, powdery substance, not to mention the fact that some of it had made it down his neck and under his sweater.

            For her part, Jean was beside herself - she was laughing so hard that her stomach ached. Something about having the rigid leader of the X-men steamrolled by a giant snowball, exploding on his face and, most of all, his surprised reaction (she could _feel_ his eyes widen in shock) was simply too funny. She regretted the fact that she hadn't caught it on videotape.

            Unsuccessfully trying to clean himself up, Scott turned to the telepath with vengeance in his eyes. "Red, you are going to pay for that!" he growled as he started to chase her. With a happy shriek, Jean ran as fast as she could away from him, twisting and turning in the snow-covered forest as Scott continued his pursuit. He finally caught up to her beside a large oak tree and pinned Jean to the ground with a flying tackle, careful to dive at an angle that wouldn't hurt her.

"Now you're going to pay!" he grinned wickedly in eager anticipation. Unsatisfied with the indirect touch, and knowing that it wouldn't be sufficient, Scott reached under her jacket and sweater to tickle her, fingers dancing wherever it had access to bare skin. Having done this many times before, he knew all of the ticklish areas of her body.

            Jean screeched with laughter as his hands roamed across her stomach, sides and back. She tried desperately to make him stop, but to no avail. Her mind was too distracted for her to use telekinesis properly. "Stop!" she choked out between bursts of laughter. "No, not the back! Anything but the back! Stop, _please!_"

"Not until you say uncle," Scott demanded as she squirmed in his grasp. He watched in amusement as she twisted, writhed, wriggled and did whatever it took to stop his assault. It was all in vain. Tears rolling down her rosy cheeks, Jean finally submitted to his demands. "Uncle!"

"What? My hearing's bad - you're gonna have to speak louder, hon." 

"Please! Uncle! _Uncle!_" Jean shrieked pleadingly. Instantly, Scott stopped, a triumphant grin on his face as the redhead laid sprawled across the ground, trying to regain her composure. Softly picking up Jean in his arms, Scott held her close as she recovered and her breathing returned to normal. Their psychic rapport opened up spontaneously, allowing Jean to bask in the tenderness that was flowing in oceans over their link, warming her entire body despite the cold, frosty air. They maintained the embrace for a long time, until Jean snuck a peek over Scott's shoulder.

//Scott, look. That rock....\\ she sent him telepathically as her lips broke into a smile. Slowly, Scott turned around to stare at the large pink boulder that was lying nearby. Emblazoned in its rose-coloured surface, barely visible through the dirt and lichen, were the words that forever bonded Jean Grey and Scott Summers. A symbol of their relationship that brought back emotions and memories that both of them thought they had lost long ago.

            God, it seemed only yesterday that.... 


	2. Chapter 2

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. Takes place in the same timeline as Ruby Quartz. 

Chapter Notes: This chapter is a bit darker as it deals with parts of Scott and Jean's past. I have loosely based these in a bizarre mix of Evolution, Evolution comic and the 'canon' X-men comic data.

There will be no interaction between the two, as they have yet to meet each other, but I promise there will be plenty of Scott/Jean scenes in the near future.  

Pairings: Scott/Jean

Rating: PG 13 for Scott swearing. 

****

**_Chapter two_**

_"Jean, sweetie, its dinner time!" Elaine Grey called to her daughter. Stepping outside onto the porch, she saw her youngest playing happily across the street at their neighbour's house. Ms. Grey could just make out their figures in the twilight - it was too dark to see clearly yet night had still not fallen._

_"Just a minute!" The ten year old girl giggled happily as she threw a frisbee at her best friend Annie. Her mother decided that a few more minutes couldn't hurt._

_The two children continued their game joyfully, tossing the yellow Frisbee to and fro.  Predictably, the plastic discus strayed off course, soaring towards the road. Annie went running after it. The little girl was so intent on the Frisbee that she didn't notice the car barrelling down on her at an incredible speed...._

_"Annie, watch out!" Jean cried, but it was too late. The body of her best friend was hurled through the air like a rag doll, landing in a pool of blood. Jean rushed to her side, oblivious to anything else. _

_And then it happened. As she held Annie close, her head was suddenly filled with.... voices! So many voices! The young girl became scared - what was happening to her? The whole affect was terrifying. It sounded like a thousand people talking **inside** her head at once. Jean wanted them to stop, wished for it, prayed for it, but they wouldn't go away. _

_~She's not going to make it~_

_~Omigod, somebody call an ambulance!~_

_~What happened?~_

_~She's bleeding! There's so much blood....~_

_            It was just too much for her to take. Suddenly, one distinct voice drowned out all the others. Jean looked down and realized it was Annie's. She was calling to her, scared at what was happening. Annie didn't want to leave. Without thinking, Jean latched onto her mental signature as she followed her best friend into the darkness that was creeping up on them. _

_The voices suddenly stopped as Jean's eyes flickered shut and she succumbed to the blackness with her friend...._

***

            Scott Summers doubled over as a foot implanted itself into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. His normally neat brown hair clung to his forehead with sweat as he doubled over, frantically trying to catch his breath. Standing a few feet away was a man named Logan, the boy's martial arts instructor.

            The early morning sun rose lazily into the sky as the aspiring X-man finally regained his strength, just in time to begin a new round of combat. Standing a safe distance away was Professor Charles Xavier, the headmaster of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, watching his first student defend against an attacker that outmatched him in size, skill and experience.  Charles winced visibly as Logan landed another devastating blow, knocking Scott to the ground.

//Logan, do you really need to use such force? Scott is very young, and his mutation doesn't have as many applications to hand-to-hand combat as do yours\\ Xavier pointed out telepathically. The burly Canadian just grunted as he pressed his assault, feigning a punch before rolling neatly away from the counter-attack. He finished his manoeuvre with a lightning sweep kick, which struck home, flooring the younger mutant.

//Save it, Chuck. You asked me to teach the runt martial arts, so I'm teaching him martial arts. The kid will learn quicker this way. In any case, his enemies won't be going easy on him\\

            Blocking one of Logan's punches, Scott snuck a quick glance at the man in the wheelchair. The Professor's concern was clearly etched on his face, and by the looks of it he was having a mental conversation with his so-called 'instructor.' Scott mused over that thought in his head; he regarded Logan as many things, but 'instructor' wasn't one of them. The terms 'punisher' or 'crazy' seemed to be more fitting.

"Professor, it's okay," the young teen assured Xavier as he struggled to block a kick. "I'll be fine." His words were cut short, however, when Logan grabbed one of his arms and propelled him through the air with a flip. He landed flat on his back with a loud thud.

"Come on, kid," Logan chastised, "Ya gotta do better than that. I thought ye' learned somethin' from the past few lessons." Still on the ground, Scott elegantly rolled to his upper back before boosting himself to his feet with two strong hands. Despite his fatigue and thorough beating, there was still a lot of fight in him. It was one of the many admirable qualities that the instructors noticed in the prospective X-man.

"Forgive me for my lack of healing ability," Scott apologized sarcastically as he assumed a fighting stance. He was breathing heavily, and his white sparring gi was soaked in sweat. The teen found himself envying Wolverine's mutant powers as he dodged, blocked, and parried the older mutant's blows. 

            Logan easily deflected what little offence Scott could dish out. He had to respect the progress his first student was making: in the few short weeks since they begun these training sessions, Scott's skill in martial arts had improved significantly, to the point where the teen can be considered a formidable opponent in his own right. Knocking the kid down for the last time, Wolverine extended his hand, wondering if he had been a little too hard on him.

"I'm fine, Logan," Scott said, getting up by himself. The burly Canadian smiled. 

"You're a piece of work kid." 

***

            A loud explosion roused John Grey from his sleep. Beside him, his wife, Elaine Grey, fumbled with the lamp switch. She pawed the air a few times before finally finding the knob and twisting it, instantly illuminating the whole bedroom in a faint glow. Quickly finding her glasses, Elaine wasted no time pulling her husband out of bed.

"Come on John! It's Jeannie! She's doing it again." Fully alert now, the two practically bolted from their bedroom and into the hallway. As they made their way to the source of the noise, Sarah's door opened. "What's going on? Is she doing it again?" their eldest daughter asked.

"It's nothing honey. Go back to sleep," John ordered as they rushed past. At the end of the corridor, they finally reached the door that led into the room of their youngest child. Loud crashes could be heard clearly from the other side. This was the third night in a row....

            Cautiously opening the door, John peered carefully into the room. He ducked as a mirror slammed into a lamp nearby, exploding in a shower of shrapnel and tiny pieces of glass. It looked like a hurricane in there - literally. Small objects were whipping through the air at terrifying speeds, rotating around a central point that seemed to centre around the redheaded girl sitting on the bed. Jean Grey clutched her head in psionic pain, trying unsuccessfully to control her untamed and unbelievably dangerous mutant powers.

"Mommy, daddy, make it stop! Make it stop!" she pleaded as lamps, picture frames, stationary items and even her computer ripped through the air, faster and faster. To their horror, the walls of the room began to crack. "They're shouting! Please, stop shouting! It hurts...."

"OmiGod, my baby!" Elaine cried, narrowly avoiding a piece of debris. In his best calming voice, John called out to Jean, "Jeannie, remember what Professor Xavier taught you! Concentrate on clearing your mind!"

            At her father's advice, Jean forced herself to do as she was told. Focusing with every ounce of energy in her body, the telepath tried her best to clear her thoughts. It was a slow, tedious process, but it was working. The voices in her head started to fade away. Gradually, items that were sent flying by telekinesis decelerated until they fell to the ground, motionless. Her parents let out an audible sigh of relief as Jean collapsed in exhaustion.

            Rushing to her bedside, Elaine held her youngest close as they both sobbed in each other's arms. "Mommy, what's happening to me?"

"I don't know Jeannie, but this can't keep up like this. We need to get you help," the woman replied. What had she done to deserve this? Of all the people, her daughter had to be a mutant. The thought made her stomach twist in derision. _A mutant!_

"But who can help me?"

"Jeannie, you know Professor Xavier, don't you? The one that helped bring you out of that coma?" John inquired as he fondly stroked his daughter's beautiful hair. The truth was that the Greys had exercised every other option, but were forced to turn to Charles Xavier and his mutant school for help. Jean nodded weakly in response. "Well, I'm afraid that you will be seeing a lot of him in the near future. I'm sorry, but he is the only one that can help you."

            The young girl broke down and started crying uncontrollably, holding nothing back. "I don't want to be a freak...."  

*******************************************

"How do you think he's adjusting?" Ororo Monroe asked as she peeked through the library's large wooden doors. They were watching Charles and Scott intently. The boy was working on some academic work, to catch up on the education he missed after his parents died. The young African woman, being his chief academic instructor, was amazed at the progress that the sunglasses-wearing mutant was making. Already, they had advanced to grade five material, making up three years of school in three short months.

"He seems to be on the mend, but the runt's still scared. I can smell it in him," Logan replied, "Sometimes, I can hear him screamin' in his sleep for his parents, or brother." Scott's arrival had stirred the paternal instincts within him, and he didn't bother to hide the fact that the burly Canadian had grown rather fond of the kid. Everyone has.

"Do you think that he'll ever fully recover?" Storm's crystal blue eyes glazed over with sadness and grief for the boy who was thirteen going on thirty. Storm couldn't even imagine what it would be like to have her own family ripped away in a fiery blaze - the thought itself was almost unbearable.

"Maybe. But I'm tellin' ya, 'Ro, he needs a friend. Buryin' himself in the library or the Danger Room won't do any good. He needs someone to talk to."

"Perhaps you're right. A friend may be just what he needs...." Ororo agreed.

***

It had been a few weeks since Scott finally regained his sight. A brilliant physicist and a good friend of Charles, Dr. Taylor Prescott, discovered that when his optic blast travelled through ruby-quartz, the crystal broke down the beam and dissipated it into other forms of energy. Afterwards, it didn't take much for Professor Xavier to manufacture a pair of ruby-quartz glasses. Getting his vision back was the first successful step to Scott's recovery, and the first time he actually _smiled_. And, for once, it wasn't bitter or cynical, but exuded genuine happiness. Since then, Charles Xavier made a silent pledge to see that smile as much as possible. 

            Thus, that was how the Professor was found, sitting by the window, staring into the Institute grounds as he mulled over the young boy. He exhaled deeply; it had been almost two years since Charles managed to enroll Scott Summers into his Institute. That day had been permanently impressed into his skull, forcing him to relive the awful memory of a broken boy over and over again....**__**

****

**_*Flash*_**

_            A small child huddled in an alley, hoping to get some sleep. It was pouring sleet and hail, and the kid, no more than twelve, wrapped his arms around his thin body in an unsuccessful attempt to keep warm. His hands and ears were badly frostbitten, and his teeth were clattering viciously. The fact that his summer clothes were drenched with slush didn't help any. His eyes twitched as his blindfold became soaked in freezing rain. Scott quickly clenched them shut with renewed vigour. The numbing cold was making him grow lax._

_            This was the second year Scott had spent living off the streets. Simply surviving would've been a monumental task for any twelve year-old boy, but for him, being effectively blind, it was a miracle. It had been four years, two months and seventeen days since the accident - the one that claimed the lives of his whole family. In a flash of hell, Scott's world collapsed. He cursed his inability, his helplessness, to do anything to save his parents and Alex._

_            Shifting positions slightly to dispel the aching numbness in his body, the young mutant slowly drifted to sleep. He spent a lot of time dreaming, mostly of the future and how wonderful it could have been. Scott dreamed of his parents, his brother, family and friends, imagined and real. Sometimes, in his dreams, he would even see this warm, kind-hearted girl. He never remembered what she looked like, but he knew that she was very beautiful, with long, gorgeous hair and striking eyes...she was like an angel._

_But angels didn't exist - Scott knew that for a fact. Because if they did, they would've taken care of his little brother Alex. They would've rescued his parents...._

_            He snapped back into reality when his sharp hearing picked up the sound of rubber grinding on pavement. It sounded like wheels, but it was far too quiet to be a car. A bike perhaps? His visitor wasn't alone. There were footsteps.... It all made the young mutant very uncertain. Scott tensed up, one hand hovering near his blindfold, bracing to defend himself if necessary._

_            "Hi there," a gentle voice with a slight British accent warmed his ears. "You must be Scott Summers." Instantly, the boy became alarmed. ~What on earth? How did this stranger know my name?~_

_"How the hell did you know that?" Scott snarled, in his most intimidating tone. Someone, a man, fought back a laugh. _

_"Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Professor Charles Xavier, and I am the new headmaster of a school for gifted youngsters in New York."_

_"And what do you want with me?"_

_"Well, Scott, I believe that you are one of the people whom I refer to as 'gifted.' I have reason to believe that that is why you wear that blindfold, correct?"_

_            The boy laughed bitterly at his words; it all suddenly became clear.  "Oh, I see. You want me to join your school of freaks? I don't suppose we'll join the circus once we graduate, right?" His words were dripping with pessimism, and it stung the Professor to see such a young soul corrupted so cynically._

_"No, you misunderstand. At my school, you will learn how to control your powers-"_

_"Not possible."_

_"How can you be so sure, child?" a woman asked._

_"I can't control my powers!" Scott's temper flared. "I tried for two f**kin' years! I'm goddamned cursed with killing things whenever I open my eyes! There, happy? I told you my '**gift**.' Now what's yours?" _

_            The adults looked like they had been slapped. Even Logan was taken aback by this kid's scornful outburst. _

_"Okay, Scott. My power is telepathy. That means I am able to-." _

_"I know what telepathy is." Unknown to Scott, Charles Xavier blinked, but quickly regained his tranquillity. Clearing his throat, he went on._

_"Standing beside me is Ororo Monroe. She can control the weather." To emphasize his point, the torrent of hail and sleet stopped abruptly. Scott could feel the sunshine warming his body, a welcome change from the freezing assault just moments before._

_"And standing on my other side is Logan. He has the ability to heal rather quickly, and has a set of three metallic blades that extend from each hand." There was a distinctive *snickt* followed by its opposite twin as metal claws were unsheathed before quickly being retracted. Surprisingly, Scott remained undaunted. _

_ "You are a brave young man, Scott. I want you to know that I wanted you at the Institute from the first moment I became aware of you."_

_            Scott just huddled on the floor. "This is the part where you force me to join your little freak school, right?"_

_"We will not force you to do anything," Charles replied sternly. "Merely offer you a place to stay. A home." The man in the wheelchair studied his opposite intently, pausing for effect._

_"A future," he finished. The words rang in Scott's ears. This man was offering something that he only dreamed of. ~A future...~ he repeated mentally to himself._

_            Scott sat there, contemplating. Deep down, he desperately wanted to believe them, he really did. But the young boy still remained skeptical about the issue - it seemed too good to be true. In a soft, uneasy voice, he asked, "Are you sure you want me living under the same roof with you people? You didn't exactly see what I can do. I can kill all three of you in a second." There was an audible snort._

_"Doubtful kid, but show us anyway," Logan retorted. Scott complied and his arms reached up behind his head to undo the blindfold. The sensitive skin of his eyelids trembled as it was exposed to the air for the first time in over three years. He hesitated, feeling the raw power pushing against him. Taking a deep breath, Scott looked up, before opening his eyes._

_            Xavier, Logan and Ororo were blinded by a flash of crimson light. Streaks of red, pink and white literally exploded from his face and vaporized the edge of a building. Scott was thrown several feet backwards from the force of the blast. The whole area was lit up in crimson as Scott struggled to control his mutation. After a five seconds, he finally forced his eyes shut and replaced the blindfold. He trembled visibly, believing that this was the moment in which they'll abandon him - just like everyone else did._

_To his surprise, their reaction was quite the opposite. They seemed.... enthusiastic. "Well, to put it mildly, your powers have advanced far more quickly than we'd imagined, but there is still a place for you at my school," Charles Xavier stated, once he overcame his shock._

_"Even after-"_

_"Yes, Scott. We knew you would be a very powerful mutant from the outset. But we will not force you to come with us if it's against your desires." The three watched as Scott's brows burrowed in thought. _

_~Hell, why not? If I don't like it, I'll just run away again~ In the end, it was the idea of food, a warm bed and a roof over his head that proved to be the deciding factor. He was tired of living in alleys and scrounging for food. Anything would be better than what he had now._

_"Alright Professor," Scott didn't even bother to hide the doubt in his voice, "I'll take you up on your offer." _

****

**_*End Flash*_**

~How can we get him to trust us?~ Xavier, not for the first time, asked himself. ~I sense the need, the _desperation_, in his mind, but Scott is still reluctant to embrace it~ The Professor prayed that whoever brought this torment upon this child be justly reprimanded.

"Thinking about Scott again?" A regal voice echoed in his office as Ororo stepped into the room. The telepath just nodded in reply, still immersed in his thinking.

"He is certainly making excellent progress academically and physically," she reported, trying to lighten his mood. "His ability to recognize patterns and analogies and his speed of comprehension is far above average. Moreover, I've never seen anyone go through a book of geometric and trigonometric relations as quickly as Scott does."

"I'm not surprised. His mutation provides him with an innate capability to compute complex mathematical relations in his head with tremendous speed and accuracy." He paused, eyes closed. "I just wish that I could help him heal emotionally, somehow. Scott's been through so much pain and suffering.... he's just a child, Ororo." Xavier's voice was soft yet filled with sorrow.

"Charles, you have done absolutely everything in your power to help Scott. He appreciates it, even if he doesn't let it show. Give it some time." At that moment, the phone rang. Taking a glimpse at the caller display, the Professor picked it up.       

"Hello? May I please speak to Charles Xavier?" a distinctively male voice inquired at the other end of the receiver. 

"Yes, this is Charles Xavier speaking. How are you doing John?" 

"Fine, thank you," John Grey replied impatiently. He was intent on discussing the issue at hand. "I want to talk to you about Jean." The professor waited patiently for him to continue. There was only silence. "It happened again last night, didn't it?" Charles affirmed, not making it a question.

"Her condition is getting worse, and to top it off, she's losing control of her...." John struggled for the word, "-telekinesis as well. Why is this happening, Charles?" John Grey ran a frustrated hand through his thick brown hair. "You were able to control your mutancy without trouble. How come my daughter can't as well?" His voice sounded tired, the result of being deprived of sleep for the past three days. Jean's outbursts have been getting more and more violent with each passing night. John feared that it might eventually overwhelm her, like it did once before.

"John, as I stated before, Jean is a very powerful mutant. Her powers are of the psychic type, which means they are based in the mind. I fear your daughter's psyche is not yet developed enough to handle her gifts, and the fact that both her telepathy and telekinesis manifested in such a short time apart only worsens the situation." 

"Isn't there anyway to stop this? This mutation? She's only a child, for god's sake!"

"John, please, calm down. You know very well now that mutations are not a disease, merely the next step in human evolution. Your daughter's powers cannot be stopped, merely cultivated. In time, I am confident that Jean's control over her gifts will be restored."  

"Can't you help her?" John's voice was frank and filled with worry. 

Xavier hesitated a moment before answering. In truth, he wanted to enroll Jean as the very first student of his new school, the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, but her parents were reluctant to accept the fact that their daughter was a mutant. Thus, they have avoided the issue totally, until now.  

"As you are aware, I am now the headmaster of a new school for mutants. Already, I have detected a huge growth in the mutant population, many of whom are children who need my help like Jean. I fear that this is only the tip of the iceberg, so to speak. Thus, I simply cannot afford to spend anymore time tutoring Jean privately. There are only twenty-four hours in a day, my friend. However, I am convinced that if we were to enroll Jean into the Institute...."

"Elaine and I are still not sure about this, Charles."

With a deep sigh, the Professor decided to settle on a compromise. "Why don't you drive Jean over here, the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, for the weekend? That way, I can perform a more accurate assessment of your daughter's powers and maybe able to find some alternate ways to help her."

"Really? Will this cost anything?"

"Nothing. It will be a pleasure itself in teaching Jean how to control her mutant abilities. I have a feeling that this will be a learning experience for us both." With that, the two set off to discuss the finer points of their agreement.

            Unknown to either party, Ororo rushed out of the room, intent on telling Logan the good news.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I was writing the prologue, I was planning to just have it and the last chapter (epilogue, closing shots, whatever) in present time, with all the chapters in between dealing with the three years in which Scott and Jean were the only two students in the Institute (actually, this isn't quite right; you'll see what I mean). Now, I decided to mix it up a bit, just for kicks. Read it and comment on it on your reviews. See if you like the time-traveling ;-)

           Furthermore, there have been several developments in Season Four that are beginning to contradict the timeline for my two stories. Therefore, it's getting a bit AU, especially Ruby-quartz. Oh Oh Oh! Scott's eyes are revealed in one of the episodes. I'm not telling you what colour they are, but they aren't green. Too bad - they were green when he jumped out of that plane....

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. Takes place in the same timeline as Ruby Quartz.

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter Three**

           Scott was walking across a meadow. The sight before him was stunning - miles and miles of gently rolling hills, covered with a thick green carpet of grass and a small creek meandering to his right. However, what shocked him the most was that fact that he could _see_ in colours. The green of the grass, the light blue of the sky, the dark brown of the dirt.... and he wasn't killing anything. Lifting a shaky hand to his face, he found he wasn't wearing his ruby-quartz glasses.

           Laughing, Scott ran across the field, skipping, jumping and rolling, enjoying himself like the child he never was. Birds and butterflies took to the sky, wary of the disturbance the young boy was unwittingly creating. Scott couldn't believe it; his powers were being kept in check. The teen made his way over to the creek; he just _had_ to see his eyes. Crouching over, forest green pupils stared at him as Scott gazed at his reflection....

"Hey!" he exclaimed as two hands pushed him into the cold water. Goosebumps ran all over his skin as he landed face first into the creek. A girl, about his age, started giggling as Scott sat there, spitting water out of his mouth.

"You're all wet," the stranger pointed out needlessly as she bent over, extending a hand to help him up. The young boy, grinning devilishly, grabbed it and pulled her down into the water beside him. She shrieked as she landed with a splash. Her face lit up with a smile and he smiled back.

"So, what's your name?" he asked conversationally.

"I'm not telling," she answered, looking into his eyes. Abruptly, she got up, and ran away on bare feet. 

"Hey! Where are you going?"

"Catch me if you can, Scott Summers!" she yelled over her shoulder. Laughing playfully, Scott got up and chased her. He caught up to her in the middle of the meadow and tackled her to the ground. The girl gave a surprised cry as she fell, pinned by the boy's greater weight. Towering over her, Scott grinned in victory, restraining her arms above her head.

Her wrists were cold. In fact, the air was freezing. Scott's body started shivering uncontrollably....

"Get off your ass, runt!" a gruff voice commanded. It was definitely not the voice of the girl. Scott groaned in protest, curling his body in a tight ball for warmth.

           Scott tried for several minutes to fall asleep again and continue the wonderful dream he was having, but it was no use. The girl vanished. Reluctantly, Scott opened his eyes. For a moment, he hoped that he would be able to see in colours again, but that hope died as soon as he saw Logan standing in front of him - in all his red and pink glory. He immediately deduced the source of his coldness - in Logan's hands was his warm blanket. 

"Logan?" he muttered sleepily.

"Looked like you were having a pretty good dream, kid."

"You have no idea...." A brief glance at the alarm clock told him that it was 7:45 a.m., Friday. Scott's naked upper body shivered as he lazily pulled on a t-shirt before walking out of his room. Logan stood there, staring at his retreating figure, wondering what the hell the kid was dreaming about. He hoped that whatever it was, it wasn't one of his nightmares. Today was a big day.

***  

"Ororo!" Scott squirmed as Ororo tried to work his hair with a comb. "Please! My hair's fine!" 

"Quiet child. And quit fidgeting already. You're just making this harder on yourself," Storm chastised. Her eyes glowed white briefly, and outside, somewhere in the sky, the faint rumble of thunder could be heard. Unwillingly, Scott submitted himself as the African woman worked his chestnut hair with a comb, cold water and some mouse. 

"Well, that's about as good as its gonna get," Ororo remarked a few minutes later, taking a step back. "Not bad, if I do say so myself." Looking in the mirror, Scott didn't notice anything quite different. His hair looked the same as it always did. 

"Hurry," Storm commanded, leading the way out of the bathroom and through the mansion, "The Professor said that they will be arriving soon."

"I don't see why you are all so excited about having another freak in the mansion," he said, struggling to keep pace with Ororo's long, quick strides. Damn, he wished he were taller. As they descended down the stairs to the foyer, Logan was already waiting for them near the front glass doors.

"You should be. But to satisfy your distaste for having another mutant at the Institute," she continued dryly, "remember that she will only be staying for the weekend." The three walked outside and stood on the stone steps of the mansion quietly for a few minutes before an expensive looking car pulled up to the metal gates across the Institute grounds.

"Well, Cyke, it looks like you'll be having a new friend to keep you company. Can get kinda lonely in here, kid," Logan's voice was unusually happy. Like Ororo, he was finally glad that Scott will have someone to socialize with. As he said before, a new friend will do the kid good. 

"Gee, I can't wait," Scott responded sarcastically, ruby-quartz lenses reflecting the sun. "Another freak to hang around."

"Come on kid, it's not that bad."

"Easy for you to say. At least you _can_ retract your claws. If I don't wear these shades for the rest of my life, I can level this building in a blink." The Canadian mutant didn't respond; Scott knew he wouldn't. He didn't want pity, and Logan wasn't inclined to give any to him in the first place.

           "I wonder what this mutant can do," Scott pondered as the car pulled up on the circular driveway. "Probably something stupid."

"We're about to find out soon enough," Ororo replied. The front doors of the car opened, and despite the fact that there were three people in the car, only two stepped out.

           Instantly, Scott got suspicious. "Hey, I thought the Professor said that the new student was supposed to be my age. He didn't say anything about a man."

"That's because that man isn't the one the Professor is talking about. The new student is that red-haired girl over there," Ororo corrected. "Her name is Jean Grey. That's her father."

"Jean Grey?" he repeated daftly as he stared in disbelief. _No way. Could it be? Could it be that girl?_ Scott Summers was sure that angels didn't exist before, but now, he wasn't. It's hard to deny the existence of something when the living proof is standing right before your eyes. As Jean and her father walked up the stone steps, Scott thought that surely someone so beautiful and so..... _perfect_ couldn't be a freak. It didn't seem possible - there must've been some mistake.

_~Wow~_

***

           A silver Mercedes stopped before the gates of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters as they slowly crept open. It had been a long drive from Annandale-on-Hudson, New York, to Bayville. The odometer had gained an extra digit. Inside its leathery interior, a thirteen-year old girl held onto her mother's hand in desperation, fear radiating from her big green eyes. She didn't want to be left alone with a group of freaks, even if it was for a couple of days.

"Mommy, please! Don't make me go!" she pleaded in vain, in a last minute attempt to change her parents' minds. However, when John and Elaine came to this decision several nights ago, they stuck by it with uncharacteristic stubbornness. As the car pulled up on the circular driveway, Elaine simply extracted her hand from Jean's grasp, but subsequently wrapped it around her small shoulders.

"Honey, this is for the best. Charles Xavier will be able to help you better than Mommy or I can," her father told her from the front seat. Despite this, Jean could easily sense his doubt and unease through her underdeveloped telepathy.

"But-"

"No buts. This is final," John cut his daughter off. Noticing her anxiety, Elaine gingerly cupped her face and kissed her forehead. "Don't worry, Jeannie. Everything's going to be fine. You are our daughter, and we love you no matter what. Think of your mutation as a gift - it shows just how special you are."

"Some gift," Jean snorted, pulling out of her mother's embrace. Something snapped within her. "You're just sending me away so you don't have to see me ever again!" she shouted. "You don't love me; how can anyone love a freak!" Her parents were appalled.

"Jean!" Elaine started to protest, but her daughter wouldn't hear any of it.

"Did you know that I have no friends at school? It's because they think I'm a freak! They're scared of me, as if I have a disease or something. And you know what? I hate you! All of you! Is it my fault that I'm a mutant?!?" Jean cried as she got out of the car, slamming the door.

           John and Elaine Grey were shocked. Her daughter's outburst literally cut their hearts in half, leaving it bleeding with unshed tears. Didn't she realize how much they loved her? John briefly glanced over his shoulder at his wife, and contemplated taking Jean back home and holding her in his arms until she fell asleep. He wanted to stroke her hair, to reassure her that she wasn't a freak, and tell her over and over again how much he loved her. "We are doing this for her own good, Elaine. It's the only way; she'll understand when she's older." His wife nodded in silent agreement.

           John got out of the car and opened the trunk. Pulling out two large suitcases, he and his daughter headed for the front doors of the huge mansion. Waiting for them on the steps were three people: two adults and a boy. With Jean in tow, John climbed up the stone steps and introduced himself to the three strangers.

"Hi, my name is John Grey and this is my daughter Jean." Pulling Jean in front of him, the two finally got a close look to the type of people that the young girl would be living with. 

           Despite their mutancy, all three looked pretty normal. To their left stood a beautiful young African woman with strange, yet equally beautiful, white hair. "Nice to meet you John. I'm Ororo and this is Logan," she spoke in a regal tone as she gestured to a short, but muscular, man. "We are both teachers at the Institute." The adults exchanged quick greetings before they turned their attention to the fifth member of the group, a young boy about Jean's age. He was maybe only an inch taller than Jean, and his figure was pretty lean, but obviously in great shape. Brown hair spilled stylishly over his forehead, complementing his nicely sculpted face. However, the most remarkable thing about the kid was the pair of deep, crimson glasses that obscured his eyes and much of his face. 

           Jean stood there, studying the boy carefully. She wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't someone so normal in appearance. ~Nice hair....nicely formed face....good build....~ the telepath came to the conclusion that Scott was indeed very good-looking. His glasses intrigued her the most, giving the boy an air of mystery. Jean wasn't sure if he wore them due to a mutation or because he wanted to look cool. She figured it was probably both.

           Despite the fact that she couldn't see his eyes, Jean had a feeling that he was looking at her. From the illegible expression on his face, the telepath figured that he was probably already shunning her for her mutancy, just like everyone else at school. 

           The young girl was suddenly startled by a thought as it shot through her head. It was brief, barely a flicker, but Jean managed to pick it up with her telepathy. 

~_Wow_~

           However, her powers were not able to discern the source of the thought. She looked at the boy again, who was still standing there, doing nothing. Finally, the man, Logan, gently nudged his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. 

           The boy seemed to have trouble talking. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but there was just silence. Finally, he blurted out, "Oh, uh, h-hi. I-I'm, uh, S-Scott. Yeah, Scott S-Sumners - I mean Summers! Scott Summers! I'm, uh, a s-student here. Nice to meet y-you Mr. Grey and, uh, J-J-Jean." His cheeks suddenly turned the same colour as his ruby glasses as Scott flushed with embarrassment. 

           Jean's lips quirked up in a smile, obviously flattered. There was now no doubt where the thought had originated from. Here was a teenage boy, mutant or not, who can't even say his name right because she was just _standing_ there. Scott wasn't shunning her - he thought she was pretty. The revelation did more for her confidence than the young girl was willing to admit. It was a welcome change to all the ridicule that Jean had to endure at home. Suddenly, her telepathy came alive again, picking up another stray thought.

~Wow, the kid's got it bad....~ 

           This one was from Logan. The man decided to come to Scott's rescue and spoke in a surprisingly polite voice. "Mr. Grey, would you please come with us into the building? The Professor wants to discuss a few things about Jean's enrolment into the Institute."

"Of course." At that, Logan led Ororo and her father into the mansion to Charles' office, leaving Jean alone with Scott. As Ororo walked past, she rested a calming hand on Scott's shoulder and smiled politely at Jean.  

           With her father gone, the little girl was left by herself with two suitcases. She tried lifting them, but it was no use. They were too big and heavy, even for her telekinesis.  

"Here, let me help you with that," Scott said as he walked over and bent down to pick up a suitcase. Unfortunately, Jean, determined not to look weak, bent over at the same time, smacking their heads together. Scott clutched his head in pain as Jean sat on the ground, rubbing her forehead.

"I'm sorry. I'm such a damned klutz," Scott apologized profusely, helping Jean gracefully to her feet. The redhead gave him a small smile, unconsciously flipping her hair over her shoulders. Scott felt his throat dry up and again found it difficult to speak.   

"It's alright."

"I'm really sorry. Are you okay? Here, let me get those for you." He easily picked up the two suitcases; training with Logan for two years does that to a guy. "I have to show you to your room anyway."

"Okay, thank you," Jean agreed, flashing Scott a brilliant smile. The teenage boy had to laugh at himself. She was beautiful. He led her into the Institute in a gentlemanly fashion.

           Unknown to either Scott or Jean, Elaine Grey stared after them as the two disappeared into the mansion, eyes narrowed with suspicion. Jean was here to learn control of her powers, and then leave. She didn't want her daughter mingling with these 'people,' and Jean is definitely not to befriend any mutant. They were all freaks, below her baby girl, as far as she was concerned. 

**************************************************************************  

           In all honesty, when Jean heard about Xavier Institute, she was expecting some preppy boarding school, which were commonplace in the region. The exterior of the building did somewhat resemble a private school, with its ivy-covered walls and elegant 18th century design.

           This belief was quickly dispelled as Scott continued her tour of the mansion. They had been walking for over an hour now, and have only covered the first and second floors. The interior of the building was a sophisticated blend of classic British colonial architecture and modern technology. The mansion was filled with the latest in television, communication, entertainment and security technology in the world. One thing that the observant telepath did note, however, is that in spite of the fact that many generations of Xaviers have lived here, there were no pictures on the walls of family or friends, no personal effects, nothing. Perfect, yet cold and empty.

           Despite this, Jean hated the place with a passion. It wasn't because she disliked the people, or the setting here, but because she resented being a mutant. Whereas before she could simply pretend to be normal, this mansion was the first tangible evidence proving her mutancy, and she hated it. 

"And this elevator goes to the sub-levels." Scott's voice interrupted Jean's thoughts as the two stopped in front of two large metal doors. Ruby-quartz flashed in the light as he glanced briefly at her, then began to walk away.

"Wait! Aren't you going to take me to the sub-levels?" Jean asked, not moving away from where she stood in front of the elevator. Scott stopped and turned to look at her.

"No. You are not granted access to the basement." His tone left no room for protest. For someone who was so shy around her, this was a surprise. The two continued their tour, leaving Jean to wonder what was so important down in the basement that would make even Scott speak with such assertion.... 

***

           Jean followed Scott as he led them around for another half hour, through the recreation centre and outside on the Institute grounds. The young girl found herself awed by the sheer vastness of the school. On the way back to the foyer, Jean asked, "So what can you do?"

Scott gave her a quizzical look, eyebrows arched behind his glasses.

"Your powers?" she elaborated.

           There was a long pause before he answered. "My looks kill," he responded smoothly, looking straight ahead. His response wasn't completely untruthful, he thought. Jean bit back her frustration. What kind of an answer was that? And why was Scott being so secretive? During the tour, she told him about her powers among other stuff, but in return she didn't learn a single thing from him besides that he liked soccer. She was getting quickly tired of his stiff, frosty attitude. Before she could respond, they reached their destination. 

"... and that brings us back to the foyer," the tour of the mansion (sans the sub-levels) finally ended as Scott led Jean back to where they began. Almost simultaneously, Ororo stepped down the stairs with John and Elaine Grey close in trail. The young girl crossed her arms and refused to look at her parents.

"Scott, have you shown Miss Grey to her room yet?" 'Ro inquired as she reached the bottom steps.

"No. We've just finished touring the mansion," the boy replied as he bent down and lifted Jean's baggage. "I'll do that now." He made his way towards the stairs. Storm stared after him as he walked by, amazed that Jean had him acting differently already. Used to one-word responses, the woman was surprised to learn that Scott knew how to speak in full sentences. 

"Jean, have a good time, okay sweetie? We'll see you on Sunday," John promised his daughter. However, the redhead ignored him and walked past after Scott without the slightest hint of emotion on her face. She was obviously still mad at them.

           Her silent protest didn't go unnoticed by either Ororo or Scott. The African woman glanced uneasily at her first student, who maintained his usual poker face. For the first time, she was beginning to have second thoughts about this idea.     

****

**************************                     **_*Flash*_**           **************************

_Back to Present Time_

           Thoughts were once again directed to reality as a happy couple revelled in each other's presence. Before Jean arrived at the Institute, Scott was cynical, moody and temperamental. When she arrived, his attitude changed dramatically, which could be attributed to the troublesome redhead. 

"Remember when we first met?" Scott asked, reclining comfortably in an armchair. His head rested on the crook of Jean's neck as she sat on his lap, leaning into his body. The redhead shuddered slightly when gentle lips brushed teasingly against her silky skin.

"Just like yesterday," she replied, smiling as she took a sip out of her mug. They had retreated inside the Institute after their little scuffle in the snow. While Jean made hot chocolate, Scott had built a roaring fire. Bright orange flames now flickered fiercely in the fireplace, a source of warmth in the emptiness of the mansion. "I was quite a handful, wasn't I?"

"Yeah. I was so speechless.... You were the most beautiful person I had ever seen, Red, and still are," he whispered softly beside her ear. Jean just closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of his warmth under hers.

"I know," she answered smugly, "I am telepathic you know."

"But I didn't." Scott tugged on Jean's sweater and started trailing kisses around her neck, on her shoulders, her back - anywhere that could be exposed, which was quite a lot considering the sweater she was wearing. "Quite the first impression, huh?" he mumbled against the top of her shoulder blade. 

"Ohhhhhhh, are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Summers?" Jean had to put down her mug before she spilt it over the two of them as Scott continued his ministrations. She breathed in contentment, enjoying his undivided attention. 

"Was it love at first sight?" she asked a few minutes later, her voice now void of any hint of humour, replaced instead by an uneasy seriousness. Dropping a kiss lovingly on her neck, her fiancé gripped her hands in each of his from behind. Out of the corner of her eye, Jean could just make out the glint of his ruby-quartz glasses.

"No, I didn't think so. You were an angel, Jean, and I was afraid," he admitted, brows furrowed in concentration. "Afraid of being left alone again. Of getting hurt. So I decided to lock my heart behind thick metal walls and barbed wire." He paused, thoughtful, as if he realized something. "You helped me overcome that. Thanks."

"Scott, you know I wasn't completely like that." She turned around and faced him, gingerly running her palms over his face. "I thought you just wanted to act cool, with your glasses and all, and didn't realize what you had to go through as a boy. I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be," Scott reassured before drawing Jean in for a kiss. Her lips parted and he sighed, finding himself able to taste and explore. Eight years ago, he had dreams like this. Now, Scott was living them. 


	4. Chapter 4

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter, Scott does a bit of blasting, in the corridors of the sub-levels. I'm not sure exactly how strong his eyebeams are, so I made'em really powerful, but uncontrollable, like in Stuff of Heroes. Another note, he hasn't received his visor yet. 

            Jean's powers, on the contrary, start off weak. In the beginning of the series, she could barely lift things heavier than what she could actually lift with her hands. This is a couple of years before that, so I made her TK weak, or.... non-existent (sheepish look). The link between the two also hasn't been established yet, not until 'Power Surge.'

            If anyone is into that military jargon or whatever, you'll know that the DEFCON system operates in several levels. From Evolution, I figured the highest was 4, where there are metal plating over windows and stuff. DEFCON 1 is peacetime. I guessed that DEFCON 2 will be on 'Alert' status (probably when someone infiltrates the upper levels or the Institute grounds itself), where the guns and missiles are armed but not actively engaging. In this chapter, DEFCON 3 is activated (because someone, I won't say who, trips the system in the sub-levels, where all the secret stuff is), and this is a partial activation of the weapons systems.

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. Takes place in the same timeline as Ruby Quartz.

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 4**

            Later that day, Scott trudged up the stairs after a gruelling session in the Danger Room. His whole body ached with pain from a thorough thrashing. He had been distracted; there was just so much going on in his head at the time: his powers, his family, his dreams, the girl, Jean.... To say the lesson was a disaster would be an understatement.

~Those arachnoids are serious~ Scott thought. ~They're fast enough to dodge my optic blasts, and have more than enough firepower to take me out. If Wolverine and Storm hadn't been there....~

"Hey," an overly perky voice snapped the young boy from his thoughts. Knowing who it was, Scott groaned inwardly; the teen wasn't in the mood for cheeriness - or red hair, for that matter.

"What?" he asked, impassive. The young teen didn't really feel like putting up with Jean right now, especially after getting whipped so badly. Thus, his patience was already running low. Not sparing her a glance, Scott hoped Jean'll leave him alone as he marched on.

The redhead didn't get the hint, or chose to ignore it. "Tough day at work?" she asked lightly, taking in Scott's tired form.   

            Scott just shrugged in reply. ~_What does she want?_~  

"I was looking for you," Jean continued, overlooking his usual socially intolerable self. "You just disappeared." 

            Scott just shrugged again. It's not like he could tell her, a temporary student, that below the school was a huge room full of guns, lasers and rockets, not to mention the fastest military jet in the world along with other usefully destructive stuff.  By the way, did he mention the X-men? 

The idea was laughable.

Turning a corner, Scott walked to his room. The redhead followed him. ~_Christ, take a hint! Get lost!_~

            He didn't realized that he projected that thought out loud. Jean's eyes instantly glazed over, as if she had been struck. Her breath caught in her throat and she abruptly stopped walking, prompting him to do so likewise. "Is something wrong?" he asked, one eyebrow arched. 

"Why do you hate me?" she asked softly, words laced with sadness. The redhead thought that Scott would be more compassionate, unlike her 'friends' from school, being a mutant himself. She was even hoping to become friends.... 

"What gave you that idea?" Scott asked, surprised. ~_I didn't do anything...._~ 

"Yes you did. You told me to get lost." 

"But I never said...." His eyes widened behind his glasses as realization dawned on him, ".....that." Jean was poking around in his mind! Suddenly, his fury exploded as a wave of anger swept over him. Scott treasured his privacy; it was one the few remaining things he had left, and she is trying to take it away!

"Were you just in my head?!" he demanded, struggling to get the words out through his rage. 

"S-Scott-" Jean stammered, terrified, as she backed away. She wasn't expecting such a violent reaction, especially from someone who was usually so controlled.

"Answer my question!" Scott shouted.

"Y-Yes. It was an accident, I swear. You were pro-" Jean started to explain, but Scott cut her off.

"There are only two rules in this mansion. Rule Number One: don't _ever_ mess with my head! _Ever!_" Scott hissed menacingly. His voice was unnaturally calm and level, despite the anger boiling in his veins, making his words even more intimidating than if he had shouted them. "Rule Number Two: Stay out of my mind! Think you can handle that?" Jean was taken aback by his vicious lashing, before her eyes narrowed and her own temper flared, in defense.

"What the hell is wrong with you? I was just trying to be nice!" Her words caught him by surprise, obviously not expecting to be back-talked. Retreating a step, Scott's anger returned full force.

"What's wrong with _me_?" he asked, incredulous. "I'm not the one screwin' around in other people's heads!"

"It isn't my fault!" she protested angrily.

"I'm sure." With a sarcastic nod of understanding, Scott continued. "Why can't you respect the privacy of others, like _other_ people?"

"What've you got to hide under that thick skull of yours _anyway_?!?"

"That's none of your goddamn business!" Scott roared. "Nothing that you, a _normal_ person, would understand!" His dark glasses seemed to glow briefly before Scott stormed away, jaw clenched and hands balled into fists. Jean watched his retreating figure, before her body slumped to the floor, crying uncontrollably.

***

"Damnit!" Scott cursed, slapping a hand against his bedroom wall. Slamming his door shut, he sat on the edge of his bed, rubbing his face with his hands in a frantic thinking method. He can't believe he just lost it like that.

~_I overreacted....She was just trying to be friendly_~ he thought sadly. ~_but still, it doesn't change the fact that she was reading my mind_~

            Scott ran a shaky hand through his thick, brown hair. It has become sort of a habit of his during times of frustration. The young boy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. At the bottom of it, he knew he was wrong. He shouldn't have snapped at Jean.

~_You're just scared, Summers_~ an extremely irritatingly rational voice observed in his head. ~_You're scared that if Jean found out about you, she won't want to be your friend anymore. Although, by the way you're acting, you won't need any help anyway_~

"Shut up," he silenced the nagging voice, but knew that it was right. Scott was scared. They were so different - from opposite worlds, really. Jean's an upper-middle class girl that comes from a wealthy, loving family. He was the son of an Air Force pilot, an orphan and a homeless kid prior to enrolling in the Institute. Scott mused bitterly for a few moments at the stark contrast. His peer was way out of his league, and he simply didn't know what to do anymore. 

How would Jean react if she found out about his past? Would she be appalled? Frightened? 

            Trust. It kept coming back to that one word. Who did he trust? Did he trust himself, even? Scott already knew the answer to that one - No, he didn't trust himself. Due to the brain injury he suffered several years ago that prevented him from controlling his powers, even the smallest slip could have catastrophic consequences. At that point, his brooding was interrupted by the telepathic voice of Xavier.

//Scott, what is the matter? You seem upset\\ the Professor asked kindly.

//It's nothing. Jean and I just had a little chat\\ Pausing briefly to collect his thoughts, he settled on a vague summarization. //She was poking around in my head, and I told her to stop\\

//I see\\ There was a moment of silence, before Charles finally answered. //You do realize that Jean is unable to control her telepathy\\

//Sir, don't be ridiculous\\ Scott scoffed. //You didn't have any trouble with your manifestation, why would Jean? You're both telepaths\\

//True, we are both telepaths, but Jean is a _very_ different type of telepath\\ the Professor pointed out. At this, Scott felt his heart drop. He had assumed that they were all the same.

~_Was Jean telling the truth?_~ 

//It's hard to explain: whereas I have to go into a person's mind to read their thoughts, Jean's telepathy works the other way. She has to work at keeping her mind out of others. Do you understand?\\

//So it's not her fault if she just happens to pick up passing thoughts?\\ Already, the young teen was running out of his room into the halls. An apology was in order.

//No Scott. That's just the nature of her powers\\

***

            Jean sat by herself in the hallway, tears rolling down her cheeks every once in a while. Her sobbing has long since ceased, and the only noise she made was the occasional sniffle. Scott's words had hurt her, and badly. Whoever came up with the phrase, 'stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me,' is a complete idiot. 

At once, she sensed someone approaching. The young girl didn't want anyone to see her like this. Getting up, Jean ran down the hall and took the first turn to the right. She found herself facing a familiar elevator - the one that led to the basement, if she remembered correctly.

            The footsteps were getting louder. Desperate, Jean pushed the button, Scott be damned. He could go to hell for all she cared. As metal doors slid open, Jean slipped quietly inside, unnoticed. She exhaled deeply as she sensed Ms. Monroe walk by. Suddenly, the doors closed behind her and the elevator started moving.    

***

            Scott was closing in on where he had left Jean when he saw 'Ro turn a corner down the hall. The redheaded girl was nowhere in sight. As he walked by the elevator, his sensitive hearing picked up the low hum of the elevator as it proceeded down the elevator shaft.

~Hmm, nobody's supposed to be in the basement. I just saw 'Ro and Logan's in the Rec Room, but Jean was....~ 

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" he muttered as he took off at top speed towards the stairs. _Jean_ was in the elevator!

***

            The elevator 'dinged' and its thick chrome doors opened as a vibrant redhead stepped out into the sub-levels of the Institute. She proceeded down the long narrow hallway, taking a few turns, until she stopped before a huge pair of metallic doors with an even more impressive 'X' carved into its surface. Although she didn't know it at the time, Jean was standing in front of the Danger Room.

            Unknown to the redhead, her foot tripped one of the many laser sensors that formed the bulk of the security system. She had unwittingly sent the entire defence network at the Institute into DEFCON 3. The first thing that alerted Jean to danger was the whirling of metallic gyros as a small laser turret locked onto her heat signature.

"What the-?" Every instinct in Jean's body told her to move, high time, when the snout of the gun (it is a gun, isn't it?) started glowing blue. She just managed to dive to the ground when a burst of blue energy ripped through the air, right where her head was only moments before. As Jean tried to get up, the turret readjusted its sights and fired again. Instantly, Jean's body convulsed violently as thousands of volts of pure energy struck her chest and rushed through her body, overriding the central nervous system. She was out cold before her body hit the ground.

*** 

            Scott flew down the stairs and burst into the sublevels. Running down the hall, he checked the elevator. As he feared, it was empty.

            On impulse, Scott dove to the ground before a bolt of electrical energy even left the barrel of the well-camouflaged taser turret. Turning in mid-air, his hand flew to his glasses and removed them. Opening his eyes just a bit, a small, but highly destructive, blast of solar energy obliterated his mechanical assailant before its' sensors even registered that it missed.

~_Damn, DEFCON 3_....~ A quick scan of the defense grid showed that all the sub-levels were locked down. Each hallway was sealed off by large, metal doors and were heavily guarded by laser turrets. His mission was clear - he had to find Jean. Sprinting down the metal corridors that led to the Danger Room, the future X-man caught sight of two turrets up ahead. With cannon-like precision, both were reduced to scrap metal as they were obliterated in two crimson flashes.    

            His run was stopped when the path was barred by a large metal wall. From the looks of it, there was no way Scott could get past. Left with no other choice, his left hand rose nervously to the frames of his glasses. The mutant never did find out how strong his force beams were, as nothing has yet to survive an optic blast at full power. Now seemed as good a time as any to find out, and the thirty-two inches of titanium steel in front of him presented a formidable challenge, even for his optic blasts. 

~Well, here goes....~

Scott opened his eyes as far as they can go. Instantly, raw solar energy erupted from his eyes in a freight train of crimson power. It barrelled ruthlessly into the titanium-steel, which screeched in protest as it started yielding away from the tremendous pressure. There were no scorch marks, no molten metal: his powers were strictly concussive and generated no heat whatsoever. After fifteen seconds, it happened - the wall collapsed. The gigantic metal plate exploded in a large _Whoosh!_ as it was blasted off its emplacement, heavily twisted and warped but remarkably still in one piece. 

            As the remains of the barricade skidded across the metal floor, it attracted the attention of a trio of laser turrets. Probingly, they scanned the inanimate object for any form of life, heat sensors running through its deformed surface. Thus, there was no warning when their plastic structures were torn apart by three staccato blasts of concussive energy. As their carcasses fell to the floor, Scott ran past them, looking for any signs of Jean. 

            He found her body lying in the middle of the next hallway, sprawled across the floor, red hair covering the ground like a carpet. Quickly dispatching the gun that knocked her out, Scott rushed to her side, holding her into a sitting position. Checking her vitals, he found no indication of any injury beyond her unconscious state. Slowly, her body stirred as she came to.

"Wha-?" Jean moaned as Scott rested her head on his shoulder. 

"Hey," he said softly as her eyes fluttered open. "You finally woke up. Had me worried for a moment there.... like you died or something."

"Scott?" she muttered distantly. Suddenly, memories of their argument replayed themselves in her mind and she tried to jerk away, but was too weak to do so. Instead, she winced in pain - the effect of her paralysis has yet to wear off.

"Easy Jean," he ordered softly. His tone was gentle, a far cry from the brutal voice that reprimanded her earlier. Jean complied, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Are you alright? You look like hell."

"I'm fine," she spat, refusing to look at him. "Like you care." If she was able to at the moment, Jean would've stormed off and left him there, but such was her present state that the redhead could do little more than submit to Scott's embrace. Besides, he was so warm, and she felt so safe.... wait, what was she thinking? _I'm supposed to be mad at him!_

            At her accusing tone, Scott looked away sadly. "I do care," he whispered softly. For some reason, the boy couldn't stand the thought of Jean being angry at him. With a deep sigh, he continued, "Look, about before-"

"Yes?" Jean interrupted, expectantly.

"I-I...." he swallowed his pride, "I'm sorry. It was my fault - I had a tough Danger Room session in the afternoon. I'm sorry for snapping at you like that, but when you went snooping around in my head, I just lost it."

"I tried to tell you: You were projecting! I didn't want to! I hate my powers, I hate being mutant and I hate my life!" Jean shouted. Suddenly, it was all too much: being a mutant, rejected by Scott, attacked by strange weapons and shocked to oblivion.... she broke down into a river of tears. Scott just held her tight as her crying increased in intensity, her body wracked with heart-wrenching sobs.

"Shh, it's okay," Scott said in his most soothing voice. The truth was, he was just as terrified as Jean was, and the fact that she was crying made him even more insecure. He clumsily traced circles on her back to calm her down, ignoring the growing wet spot on his shirt. "It's okay."

"Everyone hates me, even my parents," Jean wailed, tears flowing down her cheeks in a steady stream. "How can anyone love a freak?"

"That's not true. I don't hate you."

"I'm a telepath, remember? I can hear some of your thoughts. You can't lie to me."

"Well then, they should be telling you now that I don't hate you, and that I want you to stop crying because it hurts me when you do," Scott said, projecting his words and feelings verbally and mentally. There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice. Through red, puffy eyes, she squeaked, "Really?"

"Yeah, really." She gave him a weak smile, and snuggled closer into his embrace, differences forgotten. There was a long silence as Jean regained her composure, before she finally spoke up again.

"Why did you get so mad? About before?" she sniffled, hugging him tighter. Jean half expected Scott to run away again, but to her surprise, and much admiration, he didn't. Not really anyway.

"T-There's some things that I don't want you to know. My life hasn't exactly been pretty," he admitted. Jean sat up so that she was level with Scott and pressed her forehead against his.

"Will you show me?" she asked, indicating with her telepathy.

"You won't like what you see."

"Let me decide that. I know who you are now, so I don't care what you were before. I just want to know why." She looked deep into his eyes, or rather, glasses. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

Nodding, Scott swallowed before he closed his eyes, focusing his thoughts. Telepathically, the boy projected some images into Jean's mind. 

_Flames that shot up and engulfed a couple in their early-thirties.... devastating crimson blasts.... glowing eyes, an impossibly white face and a sinister voice.... Jack, an abusive foster parent...._

"Omigod," Jean gasped when Scott severed the mind link, stunned. The pictures weren't overly informative, but they were enough to give a small impression of his tarnished past. She finally understood why he was so afraid of her. 

Scott looked away, eyes hidden by his long brown hair and ruby-quartz glasses. "Oh god, Scott, I'm so sorry," Jean whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I should've been more considerate. I'm sorry."

            There was another period of silence as the two sat on the floor, holding each other like the other person was their life raft. Slowly, Scott pulled back.

"I'm sorry about before," he began uneasily, breaking the silence. Jean never said if she had forgiven him or not. "I'm sorry for acting like such a jerk. Forgive me?" 

"Oh, come here you lughead!" She reached up and locked her arms around his neck, holding him tight. Hugging Scott was like hugging a metal pole, until he relaxed and hugged her back. The redhead couldn't believe that someone so uptight could be so warm....

"I'll take that as a maybe." A smile was tugging the corner of Scott's lips but he suppressed it. Jean wished he didn't.

"You can take that as a yes, Mr. Summers." They maintained the embrace for a long time, until her voice echoed in Scott's head.

//Promise me that you won't hate me? Promise me that you'll always be there, for me, no matter what?\\ Jean was wary of placing her trust into another person. Annie had left her before; she didn't want to repeat that experience. Scott could easily sense her distress through the emotions that were washing off of her in waves.

//That's a promise Red. I assure you, I won't leave you alone\\

//Friends?\\ Her voice was hopeful.

//Best friends\\ Scott confirmed, pulling away to stare into her emerald eyes. Suddenly, both were snapped out of their trance by the distinctive *_snickt_* of adamentium claws.  


	5. Chapter 5

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. Takes place in the same timeline as Ruby Quartz.

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 5**

           At the sound of adamentium claws, both Scott and Jean jumped away from each other, startled. Standing some ten feet away from them, in full combat uniform, was Storm and a very pissed off Logan, who looked ready to murder someone. Scott's gonna pay for leadin' Jean down here.

~The kid is gonna die....~ 

           Wolverine tried to control his anger, the rage that was being pumped into his veins relentlessly, by counting to ten. It took all of his control to sheath the knives in his hands before he did something rash, notably mutilating Scott. As far as he was concerned, nobody, besides the four residents of the mansion, was supposed to know about the sub-levels. A tense silence settled over the corridor, with Scott and Jean holding each other on one side and Ororo and Logan standing on the other. The quiet was deafening. Everyone was taken aback when it was finally shattered.  

"_Scott, what the f*** are ya' doin'?!?_" Logan roared. A bolt of psychic pain tore through Jean's mind as the gruff voice amplified her splitting headache to intolerable levels. The young girl never even knew that someone could yell that loud. She looked sideways at Scott, who simply stood up, looking straight into Logan's eyes as the older mutant walked up to them. Despite being a couple inches shorter than Scott, Wolverine still seemed to tower over his lean figure.

"_WELL?!?_" Logan shouted inches from Scott's face, forcing him to step back a bit. Being too angry to care for anything besides the boy in front of him, Wolverine ignored the calming gestures from Ororo as he continued to viciously condemn Scott.  In a chain derogatory phrases that would leave even Jack O'Diamonds blushing, Jean picked up something about a Danger Room and the X-men. Remarkably, Scott managed to retain much of his composure throughout his brutal rebuke.

"'Ro, do me a favour and get Jean to the med lab, would ya?" Logan panted, after venting his anger on Scott. He gestured to Jean, who was still sitting on the floor. "Check her for any internal injuries or signs of cardiac arrest; those tasers were designed to take out a full grown mutant, not a fourteen year old girl."

"I'm sorry," Scott apologized, voice admirably steady. He didn't know why he was taking the blame, but his sense of responsibility was overwhelming. His gaze never wondered from the Canadian in front of him. "It was an accident." 

"Yer sorry... Yer freakin' _sorry_..." Logan repeated, sounding it out himself. "Yeah, I'm sorry too, kid. Fer thinking you were actually ready to become an X-man. Jeannie just bats her pretty eyelashes and you cave like a wet paper towel! Hell, I thought you were better than that!" 

           Scott's mouth dropped a little, dazed by Logan's accusing words, before his jaw clenched shut, pretending that nothing had affected him. He had always wanted to be an X-man, ever since Storm and Wolverine rescued him from the streets nearly two years ago. He needed a future to believe in, to fight for; thus, when Charles Xavier explained his vision of a peaceful co-existence between mutants and humans, Scott grasped the idea and held onto it for dear life. The X-men were his future.

           With her undeveloped telepathy, Jean felt Scott's heart sink, and knew that he blinked behind his ruby-quartz glasses. Although his poker face might've fooled Storm and maybe Logan, his reaction couldn't escape a telepath. Jean's stomach twisted in a tight knot of guilt. This whole ordeal was her fault, not Scott's, and she felt utterly horrible of the brutal admonishment he was receiving on her behalf. She attempted to step in, hoping to salvage the situation.

"Really, it was...." Jean started, but Scott immediately cut her off.

"It won't happen again," he assured with false poise as Storm bent over, helping Jean to her feet. He shot her a look that read _Be quiet - Let me handle this_. 

"Of course not," the Canadian sneered, "cause ya'll be scrubbing the DR with a toothbrush for the next ten years."

"It won't happen again," Scott repeated, softly this time. With that, he quietly brushed past Wolverine and down the hall, leaving the adults and Jean staring at his retreating figure. 

***********************************************************************

"Well, you got one nasty shock, that's for sure," Storm chuckled, softly tucking a strand of red hair behind Jean's ear. "How are you feeling?"

           Jean was lying on a bed in the Institute infirmary, Miss Monroe and Logan standing nearby. "I'm fine - just a bit dizzy," she smiled back. The truth was, her whole body ached and her head was throbbing painfully, but she didn't tell them that.  "Can I see Scott?"

"No way, Red," Logan's gruff voice rumbled through the room, staring thoughtfully at a stack of paper towels. "The kid is in trouble, big time."

           Storm rose slowly off her seat on Jean's bed and walked across the room to where the Canadian was standing. Grabbing Wolverine by the arm and hauling him into a dark corner, Ororo said quietly, "I'm sure he meant no harm." 

"'Ro, Jeannie isn't even supposed to know that there _is_ a basement," Logan whispered back. "She practically made it into the Danger Room, fer cryin' out loud." Despite their attempts to be discreet, Jean picked up most of their conversation with her telepathy. She really wanted to see Scott. Deciding that it was for the best, the redhead decided to come clean with the truth.

"It wasn't his fault." At the sound of Jean's voice, both adults stopped their discussion and stared at her. "What are ya talking about?"

"We got into a fight," the redheaded girl explained, "I ran into the elevator crying. It took me to wherever I was - the Danger Room, I guess. I must've set something off, because then the guns started shooting. I got hit and was knocked out. When I woke up, Scott was over me, protecting me. The whole thing was my fault, not Scott's."

           The two instructors were shocked. This revelation certainly had come as a big surprise. Logan winced and covered half his face with a big hand. "Are you saying that Boy Scout saved you?" he asked, voice full of disbelief.

"Well, I don't know if Scott saved me, but he certainly was there when I woke up. And the gun that tagged me wasn't there anymore."     

"Not good," Wolverine muttered. "'Ro, what if the kid gets all prickly quiet again?"

"I told you that you shouldn't have yelled at him," the African instructor groaned, "Go find him, Logan. See if he'll talk to you." With a nod, the stout Canadian left. There was a long silence as Ororo walked over and reclaimed her seat on the edge of Jean's bed. Her ocean blue eyes were staring off into space when Jean's voice brought the older mutant back to reality.

"Miss Monroe, what did Logan mean when he said Scott might get all 'prickly quiet' again?" Jean asked, concerned. As far as she was aware, the boy was already unnaturally quiet. 

"Well," Ororo looked unsure on how to proceed, trying to convey her thoughts into words without alarming the young girl. "Scott is very shy and very.... troubled. His whole family was killed a few years ago and the experience was very hard on him. When we enrolled him into the Institute, he barely spoke at all. It took a long time for him to trust us, and now, we're not sure if we destroyed his trust or not."

Jean nodded understandingly. "I know," the redhead said softly. "He showed me." 

"What?" the older woman gaped dumbly. If what Jean said was true, Scott had opened up to Jean more in less than a day than he did for them in almost two years. Storm couldn't have been more surprised if Magneto suddenly knocked on the door wearing a 'World Peace' shirt.

"He did?"

"Yes, Scott showed me," Jean repeated. "He let me look into his mind for a while, to explain why he got so mad at me before. I saw fire, some type of red explosion, and some scary guys." She paused, collecting her thoughts. Deep down, though, the little girl saw that all Scott really wanted was someone to look after him, to care. It was all she really wanted too. ~Mutant powers have a strange way of bringing people together~ 

           The older woman broke into a huge smile, unshed tears blurring her vision. Scott and Jean have practically bonded at the hip within the short time the redheaded girl has stayed at the Institute. A friend was what Scott needed afterall.

***

           Logan breathed in the crisp, fresh air as his keen sense of smell led him outside. His enhanced eyesight easily saw through the darkness of the night as the Canadian walked down a small dirt trail, heading for the lake. After taking a few moments to get his bearings, he finally found who he was looking for. Scott was leaning with his back to a large tree, arms crossed and eyes drifting sideways over the moonlit water. His crimson shades glowed ever so faintly in the dark.

"There ya are," Logan grunted, "I've been looking fer ya." The younger mutant just rolled his eyes, safely concealed behind crimson walls. Jean must've told them.

"Here to tell me that my punishment's over?" Scott asked, as if he was telepathic. The younger mutant didn't even spare him a glance. He seemed to be mesmerized by the small waves rippling gently over the silver surface of the lake.

"Y.…yeah," the older mutant dragged out slowly, as if unsure of himself. Logan had never apologized to anyone in words before. He wasn't going to start now.

"What if I happened to enjoy the thrill of a vigorous Danger Room session?" he taunted, saving the older mutant from apologizing. If Logan didn't know better, he could've swore that Scott was smiling.

"Then I'll cya tomorrow mornin' at five-thirty," he paused, a toothy grin etched on his face before continuing. "Chuck's ordering yer uniform. It's gonna take a while - stuff that's bullet-proof, shock-proof, withstand burns, keeps ya warm and feels comfortable is pretty hard to find, and even more expensive to buy."

"Sounds like the Professor put a lot of thought into this," Scott remarked, secretly pleased.

"He has. And that's not even the best part. The doctor who made your glasses, Prescott, is working on a combat visor that'll allow you to fire your optic blasts with greater speed, ease and control." Logan emphasized that last word very carefully, knowing that it was something that the young mutant longed for. "It even comes with a small FLIR camera, so that ya can see better in the dark."

"Thanks," Scott said softly, turning to look at Logan for the first time. 

            The man just grunted in response. "Don't thank me Boy Scout. Thank the Professor," he turned to walk away. He stopped after a few steps, turning around.

"Now if yer down cryin', someone wants to cya in the med-lab."   

***

           A faint shuffling of socks brushing over the metal floor aroused Jean Grey from her light sleep. It was dark when she opened her eyes, save for the dim lights radiating beyond the infirmary door. Her drowsiness instantly disappeared when there was a loud crashing from the other side of the room, followed by a string of muffled curses. A muted flash of red flickered in the darkness, immediately betraying the identity of the wincing shadow. 

"Hey," she greeted, glad that Scott had came to see her. There was just enough light from the hallway to make out his figure in the dark. She didn't realize how much she wanted to talk to him until now, as the boy limped over and stood a few metres off the foot of her bed.

"Hi," he replied shyly, finding a spot on the floor interesting. "Sorry to wake you up. Logan said you wanted to see me?"

           Jean nodded. He pulled out a chair and hauled it over to where she was lying. Dragging it beside her bed, Scott plopped down on the seat, head resting on crossed arms as he sat with the backrest between his legs. Neither said anything for a while. 

"So," he started, agitated by the silence, "you feeling any better?"

"Much better," she responded conversationally. "I don't feel as fuzzy anymore and my headache's gone," 

"Do you need anything? Water, maybe an extra blanket?" he asked, not content with just 'better.' Jean shook her head, smiling appreciatively.

"Quite a first day, eh?" she mused lightly, looking at Scott. "It's not everyday you get fried by trigger-happy laser guns."

"No, I suppose not," he shrugged, wearing his usual poker face. The redhead let off an audible groan; Scott acted like it happened everyday.  

"You know something, Scott?" Jean was looking at him with a mischievous glint in her emerald eyes. Suddenly, there was a sinking feeling in the boy's stomach. "Someday, I'm going to get you to smile."

There was a snort as Scott looked away dubiously. "Well, sure, I guess. The probability of such a phenomenon occurring, though infinitesimal, is not exactly nil," he retorted dryly.

Jean had to laugh at that. "Would you lighten up?"

"Maybe 'someday,'" Scott promised, repeating her vow. Pretending to give it some thought, he added jokingly, "Think about it: the way I see it, every force needs an opposite to counteract it. My job is to keep all your perkiness and fun in check with my cynicism and apathy." He shrugged, again acting like it was no big deal. Jean just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," she smiled, smacking him lightly in the arm. Scott just tilted his head, looking at her thoughtfully. At once, the relaxed atmosphere around them seemed to be replaced by an uneasy tension. After a while, the redhead started to become self-conscious under his gaze.

"What is it?" Jean asked softly, afraid that she might've did something wrong. Okay, so maybe her friendship with Scott was comparable to a minefield...

"Nothing," his voice was delicate, mixed with a tinge of dreaminess. "Just wondering what you look like in colour, that's all."

"You mean you're colour blind?" her voice was full of surprise.

"Uhh, yeah," Scott answered, a little embarrassed, "You didn't know?" 

"No! You still didn't tell me what your powers are yet." Jean reached out with one hand for his glasses but he caught her wrist, holding it gently.

"You don't want to do that," Scott said in a calm voice. At her questioning look, he elaborated. "My eyes emit powerful force rays that the Professor calls 'concussive optic blasts.' The thing is, I have absolutely no control over them. The only way I can see is if I wear these shades, 24/7." He pointed to his glasses. "Since the blasts and the glasses are red, that's the only colour I am able to see in."

"But I can't control my powers either. That's why we're here, right? Isn't control what we're here to learn?"

            Scott's gaze dropped slightly in defeat. "That's the speech," he muttered sadly. "But I can't. Brain damage." Scott emphasized his point by tapping his temple softly.   

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to...." Jean trailed off, clearly embarrassed. At least she had the decency to look repentant. The redhead slowly extracted her arm from Scott's grasp and laced her fingers through his instead, squeezing it apologetically.

"Its alright," Scott dismissed indifferently, waving it off. However, somehow, Jean felt that it was. Feeling the need to share something with Scott in return, she said, "I told my parents that I hate them." A single tear rolled down her cheek as the painful words escaped her throat.

"It's okay. I'm sure they knew you didn't mean it," Scott comforted, reaching over to the counter for a tissue. He offered it to the redhead, who gratefully accepted it.

"I miss them," she whispered softly, wiping away tears. She did miss them: her dad, her mom, Sarah... Jean wanted to go home.

"I'm sure you do," he comforted. Scott, whose family died when he was eight, missed his parents even now; thus he had no doubt that the redhead would miss hers. Talking about family made him relive moments he'd rather forget, but it was nice to have someone to share his grief with. 

"Can I go back upstairs?" Jean suddenly burst out, startling the body beside her. "I feel a lot better, and I really prefer to sleep upstairs where the rest of my stuff is."

"Sure," Scott agreed, nodding understandingly. Her body shivered a bit as she left the warmth of bed. He felt Jean trembling and wrapped a small blanket around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she smiled as Scott walked the redhead out of the med lab, through the sublevels of the Institute and to the elevator. Jean was understandably tense, considering what happened the last time she navigated through these very corridors. Fortunately, they made it to the first floor without incident.

"Watch your step," Scott cautioned as they walked through the dark foyer and up the stairs. Jean held onto his hand as he led her to the girl's wing of the mansion. Finally, they stopped outside the door to her bedroom. Finding it unlocked, he gently ushered Jean inside.

           Jean's eyes were suddenly heavy with sleep, and combined with the after-effects of her paralysis, caused her to stumble clumsily as she tried to walk across the room. Scott almost laughed out loud when the redhead nearly walked into her dresser. 

"Here Jean, let me help you." Grabbing Jean by the shoulders, he kindly guided the telepath to her bed, on which she immediately collapsed. The day's events had certainly taken its toll on the young girl, and she was eager for some rest.

"Do you need anything?" Scott asked by the doorway.

"Yeah," she muttered, unsuccessfully suppressing a yawn. "Slim."

"Slim?" he asked, confused.

"Yeah, my stuffed tiger."

"Uh-huh," Scott dragged out teasingly, his tone suggesting that there was something seriously wrong with her.

"Don't laugh! Slim's my best friend - I had him since I was four!" Jean shook her head in a futile attempt to fight her drowsiness. "He and I, we look out for each other."

"Sure," Scott replied, "where is he?" 

"It's in the suitcase by the door - can you get him for me? Please?" Jean requested through half-lidded eyes, her voice throaty with sleep. Scott felt his throat go dry and his thinking out the window as he stared at the beautiful sight in front of him, before forcing himself to look away. When she asked like that, how could he refuse?

           Briefly skimming over her neatly packed clothes and stuff, Scott finally found the furry orange thing. Pulling it out, he could see why Jean named it Slim - it was pretty skinny, considering that it was supposed to impersonate the biggest cat in the animal kingdom. Yet it lacked none of the persona of a tiger. Walking over, Scott tenderly placed 'Slim' in her slender hands, which swiftly snatched the stuffed animal once within reach. 

           Cuddling it to her chest, Jean hummed happily, snuggling the tiger's head affectionately. Scott felt a pang of envy at the attention the stuffed cat was receiving, before realizing he was _jealous_ of a stuffed animal. Smiling to himself, he walked out of her room with a soft "Goodnight." As he closed the door, a powerful thought streaked brightly through his mind.

//Goodnight to you too, Slim\\

           Walking to his room, Scott suddenly realized that the chances of smiling weren't that small afterall. 


	6. Chapter 6

AUTHOR'S NOTE: First of all, I need to give thanks to Wen. Logan wouldn't have been so hard on Scott in the previous chapter if he didn't know about cardiac arrest. So, thank you Wen, for making Logan mad at Scott ;) Speaking of which, I would also like to thank the rest of my reviewers - your feedback is appreciated. Sorry, the Professor, Scott, Logan, Ororo and myself tried our best to get Jean to stay, but Mrs. Elaine Grey simply won't hear any of it :-{

Man, I figured I might as well post this before I take my P-SATs tomorrow (I _live_ in _Canada_! Why would I know _American_ history?). Chances are, I'll nuke it (not bomb, but nuke) and feel so sorry about myself that I won't post anything for a long time. Flipping through the practice questions (I just realized that you should've completed Gr. 11 _before_ taking the PSAT), it certainly seems that way. After such a good weekend too...

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. 

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 6**

_"We have to do this - she's gone too far," said a short, uniformed man, sniffing the air instinctively.  Six more soldiers dressed in similar attire, seemingly lacking weapons, walked across the barren wastelands of New York, identifiable by the charred remains of the Empire State building. The whole city was in ruins, as if the world had been hurled into the pits of a nuclear holocaust. Carcasses of soldiers, women and children lay scattered about as the platoon of soldiers navigated the streets, wary of the environment. It was quiet, save for the gentle breeze that filled the air with the foul stench of decaying bodies. In the distance, the faint sounds of explosions could be heard.__ The name 'Phoenix' echoed softly over the silent battlefield.___

_"There she is!" exclaimed a furry blue mutant._

            _Indeed, there was the figure of a young woman with long red hair standing peacefully amidst the chaos up ahead. With her back turned, they could see that she was clad in a shiny, red, spandex suit with golden gloves and boots, hovering gracefully over a mile-wide crater.  Seizing the opportunity, a woman with white hair took to the air, hurling the largest bolt of lightning she could summon at the beautiful redhead. As the blue ray thundered through the sky towards Phoenix, it suddenly slammed into an invisible wall, fizzling into nothingness on impact. Growling in frustration, a young man charged a deck of cards, while another turned into solid ice, as they unleashed a fierce barrage of kinetically charged plastic and frozen light. To their dismay, their attack only slammed into the same impenetrable barrier, exploding harmlessly in mid-air._

_            Turning around, two perfect, jade eyes shone a bright, maniacal ashen as Phoenix lifted her assailants, the last defenders of earth, in an aura of orange energy. Slowly, she ripped them apart on the molecular level, clearly taking great pleasure in their piercing screams. Her laughter echoed through the city as their bones fell to the ground..._

            Irene Adler woke up from her premonition in cold sweat, her breathing ragged and uneven. None of her visions have ever been this real, so clear and vivid. Rogue... she was there too, one of those in uniform as this sadistic Phoenix creature ripped her apart in a cloud of blood. The blind woman broke down, sobbing quietly. Years of wisdom and knowledge disappeared as she considered humanity's bleak future. 

In ten years...

******************************************************************************   

            Scott was having the sweetest dream about stuffed tigers and red hair when his mattress started bouncing beneath him. Moaning in stiffness, the boy became aware that someone was in his room. Bringing a hand to his sleeping goggles, he opened his eyes lethargically to a crimson world that he knew all too well. 

            Jean was on his bed, on hands and knees, a bouncing ball of animated energy and red hair. Taking a glance at the clock, the young boy was informed that it was only 6:15 a.m - it was still dark outside. How anyone could have that much perkiness so early in the morning was beyond his comprehension.

"Come on Scott, wake up!" Jean chirped, playfully shaking his still form. 

"What are you doing?" Scott groaned, flipping over on his stomach and shoving his head under the pillow. "At _six_ in the morning!" 

"What does it look like, Scott?" she asked, tugging on his arm. He blindly tried to fend her off from his spot below his pillow. Much to his annoyance, Scott was now very much awake. 

"You really need to cut back on the sugar," her victim pointed out dryly as Jean continued her antics. She was getting impatient. "Come on!" Jean whined, this time successfully pulling his pillow out of his grasp. Unfortunately, she proceeded to knock him senseless with it, determined to punish him until he gave in to her demands. Scott noted, for a girl, she hit really, _really_, hard. 

~_Fiery temper, brutal beatings... Note to self: Don't get on Jean's bad side - will live longer this way_~ Scott observed sleepily, finally holding up his hands in defeat. 

"Alright! Alright!" Scott shouted, grunting exasperatedly as he got up and sat on the edge of his bed. It was then that he noticed what Jean was wearing - a simple nightgown that hugged her lavish curves wonderfully. Standing there with her hair mussed up and her arms crossed, Scott suddenly felt the urge to stick his head in a bucket of ice.

"Uh, why don't you get dressed, or shower if you want to - the bathroom's down the hall - then meet me downstairs in twenty?" he stammered, averting his gaze. He nearly jumped when the telepath reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling him up to a standing position.

"Okay, I'll see you then," she promised, dazzling him with a 500-watt smile before she sauntered out of his room. 

~_Wow_~ Scott thought, safe behind mental shields. ~_She is so incredibly beautiful_~ In a wave of red hair, Jean disappeared down the hall. He spent several long moments staring at his empty doorway before shaking his head and getting dressed. 

******************************************************************************   

            Later that day, amidst a colourful mosaic of autumn leaves, Jean Grey sat on a stone bench alone with her thoughts. In just over an hour, her parents would be here, to pick her up. Two days ago, Jean would have been ecstatic at the fact that escape from this freak house was only sixty minutes away, but now she was having some second thoughts. Going back home meant going back to school. The warm environment here was the exact opposite of the one of ridicule among her fellow classmates.

Speaking of which, she'll have to go back to that hellhole tomorrow...

            Getting up, her hair swayed a bit as it was caught in a warm, spring wind. A wolverine seemed to study her with curious eyes as Jean weaved through the intricate maze of carefully trimmed and sculpted bushes. Peering into the sky, deep ocean blue eyes seemed to stare back at her among a group of fluffy clouds. As the redhead finally walked out of the Institute's elaborate garden, she found herself thinking of each person she met over the weekend. Things have changed. The people here weren't so bad; in fact, they were among the nicest that she has met so far. They were certainly not freaks, the repulsive beings that she has heard so much about.

            Her wandering led her unconsciously to the back of the mansion, where Scott was doing laps in the Olympic-sized swimming pool. Standing by its edge was Logan, and lounging on a chair nearby was Miss Monroe. They were obviously drilling Scott on something.

"Come on kid, you got one minute and three lengths to go. Keep push'n it!" Logan shouted to his student as the kid free-styled his way to a stone wall of the pool. In one fluid movement, Scott somersaulted under the water and kicked off of the wall, rapidly reversing his direction as he raced to finish the last 100 m of his swim.

"Think he'll make it?" Ororo asked, taking a sip of her lemonade.

"Probably - he still has almost two minutes left, actually," Logan answered, baring a toothy grin. "...and he could finish one length in half a minute anyway."

"What's Scott doing?"  Jean asked as she approached. There were the sounds of light splashing as Scott cut through the water in perfect swimming form.

"Training to be an X-man," Logan replied, playfully ruffling her hair. "He's trying to complete a 500 m swim in six minutes. Shouldn't be too hard - I'd be finished by now, and I have metal bones."

"X-man?" Jean repeated, recalling the term from previous discussions and conversations between the instructors. Yeah, Logan mentioned something about them during the incident in front of the Danger Room.

"Yes, the X-men," Ororo repeated from where she was sitting a few metres away, smiling warmly at the young girl. "Professor Xavier's counter mutant-terrorist police force, to enforce his vision of a peaceful coexistence between humans and mutants."

            The telepath noticed that Scott was just finishing the final leg of his swim. _So, Slim is training to be a hero_... Jean thought with amusement.

"And you and Logan are already part of this police force?" 

            Logan stopped his watch right when his student's hand slapped the stone edge of the pool to finish his half-kilometre run. Five minutes thirty-seven seconds - not bad. "Yeah Red. And the name's Wolverine. 'Ro's Storm," he replied as he walked over to the cooler, pulling out a cold bottle of beer. ~_Time for a little break_~ the Canadian thought as he took a seat in a chair beside Miss Monroe. 

Jean caught the sight of a pair of familiar crimson glasses lying nearby. The afternoon sun reflected brilliantly off its rose-coloured lenses. "Well, are you done with him, then?" she asked, hoping for a little time with her friend alone.

"Who, Scott?" The redhead nodded. "Well, his DR session doesn't start until a little while later, so I guess you could take him," Logan said, taking a swig of his beer. 

Their conversation stopped as all three of them turned to see Scott pulling himself out of the water. "Time?" he asked as he walked over, grabbing a towel along the way.  

"5:37," Ororo answered proudly. He was coming along nicely as an X-man. "You are doing extremely well, Scott."

"Thanks." As Scott walked by Jean, two small hands suddenly grabbed him by the arm and started hauling him off towards the mansion. "Hey! Jean, what are you doing?" 

"Come on, Slim!" Her grip was tight as she hauled him along the length of the pool. A little telekinesis ensured that there was no escape. Ororo and Logan exchanged an awkward glance at the name, 'Slim.' Wasn't that the name of her stuffed tiger?

"Why?" Scott's confusion mounted.

"I'm leaving in an hour, and my stuff still isn't packed yet. So you are _going_ to help me," she replied, the tone in her voice leaving no room for argument. 

"Alright - You just had to ask! What, did you really think I'd say no?" At his rhetorical question, Jean stopped dead in her tracks. Turning around, she started tracing a circle on the ground with a sandal, unable to meet Scott's eyes. 

"Umm..." Jean nervously curled a scarlet lock around her finger. She didn't really know how to respond - her other 'friends' at school would've said no. In fact, they would do a lot more than that... 

            Scott noticed her discomfort and rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey, relax! I'd be happy to help you pack," he assured gently. She looked up and smiled sweetly, causing his blood to rush through his body at an unnatural rate. Jean almost reached over to hug him, but she didn't feel like getting wet. "You're the best," she said instead, staring deeply into his crimson goggles.  

"Look," He gestured at his soaking wet swimming shorts as he walked back towards the pool. "I need to get changed. I'll be up in ten, okay?" 

"Sure. Meet me in my room when you finish your next swim." Jean said absently as she turned towards the mansion. Before confusion could even register in his mind, Scott was tripped telekinetically and thrown back into the pool with a loud splash. His best friend laughed heartily before retreating through the mansion doors.

            As Scott resurfaced, spitting out mouthfuls of chlorinated water, the two instructors looked on with raised eyebrows. "As I said before - like a wet paper towel," Logan remarked, smirking wolfishly. Ororo laughed.

******************************************************************************   

"What, you don't think it would be a cool codename?" asked Scott sarcastically as he walked alongside Jean. The pretty redhead giggled as they reached the stairs at the top of the big foyer. 

"Honestly Scott, get real!" she snorted with laughter. "_Blinkie?!?_"

            Before Scott could retort, John and Elaine Grey arrived and walked through the glass front doors of the mansion. "Daddy? Mommy!" Jean squealed as she bounded down the stairs and embraced her mother in a tight hug. 

"Hey, there's my little girl," her father said fondly, threading his fingers through her scarlet curls gingerly, memories of their parting replaying itself in his mind. 

"We missed you honey," Elaine told her softly as John picked up their daughter and spun her around in a tight embrace. At the sight of his best friend reunited happily with her parents, Scott felt his eyes water as it brought back memories of his own mother and father. The fact that he'll never experience such a reunion with his family struck him hard in the gut, literally knocking the wind out of him.

_Gosh. Dad, mom, Alex - I miss you guys so much. If only I was strong enough to rescue you... _

            Grateful that his eyeblasts destroyed his tears, Scott took a moment to regain his composure. Taking a deep breath, he carried the two suitcases worth of Jean's luggage down the stairs to where the Greys were. Mr. Grey looked at him kindly, but his wife seemed to be scowling at him. He reached the bottom just as the Professor wheeled himself into the room.

 "Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Grey, it's good to see you again," Charles Xavier greeted his two guests cheerfully as John set his daughter back on her feet, albeit a bit dizzy.

"Nice to see you too, Charles. I take it that our baby girl wasn't too much trouble?" John asked. At his question, Scott looked down at his socks while Jean coughed to stifle a laugh.

"No, none at all," Charles responded, glaring at the two children. "In fact, it was a tremendous pleasure to look after Jean over the weekend. Shall we discuss her progress?"

            The truth was, there had not been very much progress since Friday, when Jean arrived. Cerebro had clearly indicated that the girl was a level five Alpha-class mutant with tremendous potential power. Obviously, there can be little Charles could do to help her apart from the mental blocks that he had placed in her mind. It would be far better if Jean learned control of her powers herself and the best and quickest way to achieve this is to enroll her as a permanent student at the Institute. He hoped to convey this information without alarming her parents - "Hi, your daughter has the potential to be the most powerful mutant in the world and can fry our brains in a second flat" didn't seem to be the best way to break the news to them.  

            Unfortunately, Mrs. Grey was only interested in what could be done to contain her mutation; she certainly wasn't making this easier for either party. For some reason, the fact that Jean's powers couldn't be controlled was beyond her. "So, have you figured out what is wrong with our daughter?" the woman inquired. 

"Mrs. Grey, there is absolutely nothing wrong with your daughter. She simply has trouble controlling her powers, that's all," the Professor replied. Scott didn't like the way this discussion was going already.  

            Jean looked down, seemingly ashamed. As the adults continued to talk, she became more and more miserable until she was close to tears. Finally, Scott decided that this was enough. //Jean, why don't we go watch TV or something? Let's leave the adults alone to talk things over\\

"I know that!" the voice of an irritated woman snapped, very annoyed. "But is she better now?"

//Alright\\ the redhead replied, her sadness leaking through her telepathy. "Scott's going to show me something. We'll be back in a few minutes," Jean told her parents. Her voice was soft and her eyes were hidden behind a curtain of red hair. 

"That's a wonderful idea," John agreed, glad that they'll have some privacy - Scott wasn't the only one who noticed Jean's dejected face. Maybe this boy could cheer her up. 

            Once out of the foyer and earshot, Scott turned to look at Jean. She looked like she was ready to cry. "Jean? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, swiping her eyes quickly with the heel of her palm. "It's just...I know its horrible of me, but even after listening to the Professor on how much good we can do, I wish I could just be normal and go home."

            Holding her hands in each of his, Scott whispered softly, "Jean, that's not horrible at all. That's human - it's _normal_ to _feel_ that way." Looking deep into his ruby-quartz sunglasses, Jean was able to somehow find the twin pits of solar energy behind its dark lenses. Don't ask her how; Jean just did. Slowly, she walked into his arms, unknowingly submitting to a predestined fate.  Subconsciously, she realized that Scott kept her grounded - he was her rock. 

"Thank you. I don't know what I'll do if I never met you," Jean mumbled, her head resting on the crook of his neck. "Seriously, I was actually considering committing suicide this weekend."

"Jean, don't talk like that." Scott trembled a bit as he felt his lips brushing softly against her soft red hair. It all seemed so strange, these emotions. Jean made him feel alive, like a kid back when he still had his family, in the short while they've been together. He can't lose her now. "I won't be able to stand it if anything happened to you. You're my best friend, and we're going to look out for each other, just like you and Slim did."   

            This elicited a laugh from the redhead as she pulled back to stare at him. Scott made her feel so precious, so valuable. "I finally found you Slim, after so many years. My best friend; my stuffed tiger. I knew you were real." At her words, Scott started having flashbacks of the girl in his dreams. Somehow, it was like they knew each other before they even met - as if it was meant to be. 

Scott and Jean. 

Best friends forever.  

The tender moment was interrupted by the Professor's mental call. "Well, it looks like you have to go now," Scott muttered, visibly depressed. "Will I see you again?" His voice was hopeful.

"Yes," Jean assured as she skipped back towards her parents. //Even if I have to fight my parents all the way, I promise I'll visit you again soon\\ She gave him one final wave before disappearing around a corner. Scott stood there in the empty hallway for several long moments, staring into empty space long after the vibrant redhead had left. 

Turning, Scott started to make his way to the Danger Room. He hated to admit it, but he missed her already.


	7. Chapter 7

RANT: Ascension II was a big disappointment. Jean Grey was the only reason why I watched it. That was arguably one of the worst ways to end the series (Rogue, Logan, Ray and Wanda fans should be very happy. Unfortunately, since I'm a Cyke and Jean fan, I'm not, except for Jean). Anyway, disappointments aside, this chappy was inspired by Xavier's "and seen the dearest of friends (Jean) turn into the most terrible of enemies," quote as well as sweet-like-chocolate and joanofarc Destiny fics. If you haven't read their stories, you should really check them out. And also inspired by the horrible Ascension II plot and what might happen with the Phoenix.

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. A pre-Evolution look at their friendship, and hints of future romance. 

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 7**

           A single, green leaf was picked up by a cool, spring wind, fluttering gracefully in the air before it smacked into a hard, transparent wall. Inside a black limousine, an unknown driver activated the windshield sweepers of the expensive vehicle, quietly removing this new obstruction from his sight. He pulled up to a stop right before the gates of the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. 

           Rolling down the car window, Mystique, in her Raven Darkholme guise, buzzed the mansion before speaking in a clear voice into the callbox. It took a few minutes before someone responded.

"This is Ororo Monroe," a regal voice flowed over the intercom. In the background, she heard a man in the background asking who it was. From the sounds of it, it was Wolverine. The two shared an... interesting past, to say the least. "Can I help you?"

"Yes. My name is Raven Darkholme. I have brought a good friend of mine along, Irene Adler. We've known Charles for a long time, and we wish to speak to him now."

           After a momentary pause, Monroe's rich voice flooded the callbox again. "Alright. Drive down the circular driveway and park your car. We'll be waiting by the main entrance." The driver of their limo slowly eased the black vehicle forward as the metal gates swung open. Taking a quick glance at the woman sitting beside her, Raven asked, "Is she here?"

"I don't know. But I don't think so," replied the blind woman, one hand firmly grasping her cane.

"If we fail, and Charles decides that he's too weak to exterminate the problem, will we have to hunt her down ourselves?"

           There was a pause before Destiny answered. "Maybe - I don't see everything. But I have a strong feeling that this meeting will have a significant impact on our mission."

"Yes, our mission," Mystique dragged out, staring enviously across the mansion grounds through tinted black windows. It was far nicer than her own boarding school. 

"To find and kill Jean Grey."

**************************************************************************   

           The bell rung, signalling the end of morning classes and the start of lunch. Jean got up from her desk, and, quickly shoving her books into her bag, walked briskly out of the classroom. ~_Ugh, Mondays_~ she thought with disgust. She hated Mondays - it meant a whole week of teasing and ridicule. Unfortunately, today was to be no different - down the halls standing by her locker was a group of girls that the telepath usually tried her best to avoid.

"Wow, look who finally decided to go to school," Elizabeth Nakao sneered as she walked by the familiar mass of red hair, 'accidentally' stumbling into its shoulder. Jean almost fell but regained her footing at the last second, clutching her heavy backpack tightly. Lisa's friends laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

"Grow up," Jean muttered, trying hard to ignore them. "Are you going to get out of my way, or what?"

"No. We sort of like it here," replied one of the girls. "Are you going to do something about it?"

           For a second, the mutant girl visualized letting loose with her powers, flinging the assortment of bimbos in front of her with telekinesis before frying their brains with a little telepathy. Unfortunately, that was not an option: she could barely lift a pocket calculator and had absolutely no control of her telepathy. Sure, she sent some people flying, namely Scott, but it was by accident. Manipulating things with her mind while being in control was a completely different matter, one of the things the redhead still needed to master.

"So Jean, what did you do this weekend?" one of them sniggered. "Spend your time in Mr. Thompson's classroom for some _private_ lessons again?" This educed another batch of giggles from the group of girls.

           The redhead frowned, struggling to remain calm. "No, that's your job," she spat.

           Much to her pleasure, the small crowd that have gathered around them started to laugh. _Score one for me_, she thought. Lisa, however, only got madder. "Hey, who gave you _permission_ to talk?"

"I don't need permission; are you going to do something about it?" she shot back.

"Yeah." With a quick snap of her fingers and a call, a big guy stepped forward, presumably Lisa's boyfriend. "Close her locker. _Permanently_," she commanded.

"Are you sure?" the boy seemed uncertain.

"Yes. Now just do it already." With a quick glance at Jean, the boy positioned her lock on its side and kicked up with all his strength. The force of the impact bent the metal ringlet holding her lock upwards, jamming the whole locker in place. He kicked it a few more times, until the little grey tendril was twisted almost straight up.

"Now try to get your stuff out, princess," Lisa sneered while everyone else laughed. She walked away with her friends, leaving the redhead staring hopelessly at her locker. With a deep sigh, Jean found herself thinking about Scott.  She can't wait to see him again this weekend.

~Just 101 hrs and 45 minutes to go~ Jean thought sadly, looking briefly at her watch.

**************************************************************************

"I think ya like her," smirked Logan, his muscular figure crouching beside his pride and joy: his Harley. He and Scott were working on his baby, replacing some of the older parts with newer, and tuned up, equipment. "Diaphragm spring," he barked.

"Man, don't be ridiculous. Jean's just a friend," the younger boy replied, briefly skimming over the assortment of motorcycle parts before finding what he was looking for. "A very good friend. Nothing more," he added, handing over the circular part.

"Whatever you say," Logan snorted, busy with his motorcycle's clutch, "_Slim_." 

           At this, Scott's face flushed a little. He'd forgotten about that little incident by the pool when the redhead called him by that nickname. 

"Uhh, what are you talking about, Logan?" _Just act stupid_, he thought. "Slim? Is that a motorcycle part, cause I can't find it." 

"Yeah, sure kid." Unfortunately, his act didn't fool the Canadian for a second, but it always amazed the instructors how the kid feint stupidity so incredibly well. Eager to change the subject, Scott picked up a wrench and joined Logan by his bike. "Come on, let's finish this. I still need to complete that X-jet training sim, remember?" 

           Before the teasing could continue, however, they were interrupted when the callbox of the mansion buzzed with the voice of a woman. Surprised, Logan left to answer it, leaving Scott alone with his thoughts. 

***

"Charles, you've got to listen to me. Jean Grey is an Alpha class mutant, an extremely powerful one at that! What if there are no limits to her powers?"

                The Professor, Mystique and Destiny were discussing amongst themselves in the Institute's study. It was agreed beforehand that the information about to be shared remained confidential, since the two women regarded the issue as so important that they are present without the sanction of Magneto. Despite the fact that the three have decided to set aside their differences for the time being, not much progress was being made as the meeting continued.

"Don't be ridiculous," Charles scoffed. "We are all Alpha mutants here – the current Cerebro can only detect such powerful mutations. What makes you think Jean is more of a threat than you or I? Or Storm, for that matter?"

"Charles, that may be so, but you know as well as I do that she is no ordinary Alpha mutant," Destiny countered. 

                Charles opened his mouth as if to speak but remained silent. Deep down, he knew what they were saying was true - the redheaded girl was an extremely powerful mutant - but he refused to believe that a child as good-natured, as warm and as kind as Jean could be possible of the level of destruction and evil that these two women are talking about.

"If you lay one finger on her, I will hunt you down and turn you into vegetables with a single thought," he threatened, his voice icy. The blue shape-shifter snorted in disgust.

"Fine, I'm sure that you're familiar with the nature of Irene's powers," Mystique spat, playing her trump card. "Look into her mind and tell me what you see." Irene nodded in approval, eager to share her vision with the man in the wheelchair.

                Left with no other choice, and with a deep sigh, Xavier closed his eyes and began to concentrate. His psionic essence slowly drifted out of its physical shell and onto the astral plane, where he quickly found Irene's psychic body and slowly slipped into her mind. The process was facilitated by her acceptance and the graveness of the situation. 

                A minute later, his eyes shot open in shock. _No, it can't be_...  

"Do you see now? Do you understand why we must kill her while she is still vulnerable?" Mystique asked, pleased with his reaction. "Even your little X-men couldn't do squat to her." 

Charles, after a moment of thought, clasped his hands together over his hardwood desk and pinned them with a gaze that could've melted steel. "If you think that I have changed my position, you are sadly mistaken. Jean is here to learn control of her powers so that such a future _will_ be averted."

"Charles!" Irene gasped. "Do you really think that you could possibly control something that powerful?"

"Yes," he replied, his tone frosty. "I really do."

           Growling in frustration, Irene threw her head sideways in disgust. Then something strange happened. A boy, no more than fourteen, walked in, asking, "Professor, is something wrong?" At the sound of his voice, Irene's mind was hurled into the depths of another vision, just as deep and clear as the one that warned her of the Dark Phoenix.__

****

**_*Flash*_**__

_The scene in front of Irene was a familiar one. The city of New York was before them, in ruins, although the damage didn't appear to be as extensive as before. Better still, there were no bodies lying randomly on the streets, save for a few human soldiers. As she progressed closer into the heart of the city, she caught sight of a raging battle that showed no signs of slowing down._

_           Phoenix was again fighting the same group of mutant soldiers, probably Xavier's X-men, on the streets of New York. For some strange reason, the redheaded super-mutant has yet to rip them apart when she could've easily done so. The battle, however, abruptly ended when a beam of red light lanced through the air, striking the closest X-men in the chest and sending his hulking metal figure sprawling across the floor._

_"Don't touch her." _

_           A dark, tall figure walked out of the shadows, a glowing crimson slit where his eyes were supposed to be. Irene had never seen him before in her past visions. The others obeyed, albeit reluctantly.  Phoenix glanced briefly at the new figure before she faltered, her flames dying as she collapsed onto the ground. Instantly, the man was by her side, cradling her slender body tenderly in his arms._

_"Scott?" Her eyes seemed to flutter with exhaustion and a tinge of dreaminess. Clearly, whoever this Scott was, they were close. Perhaps they were even lovers._

_"It's okay, Jean. Everything's going to be okay." He caressed her cheek lovingly, brushing a few disobedient strands of red hair away from her face._

_           She coughed a bit, choking back tears. "Kill me now, while you still have the chance."_

_"No." A small frown appeared just above his black visor._

_"Cyclops! If I really..." she shuddered at the possible implications, "I could destroy this entire solar system! Please - am I really worth the risk? Am I really worth the **entire** universe?"_

_"You are worth everything there is and ever will be, Red," he responded, kissing her forehead. The X-men gasped in shock - their field commander was risking their lives for one woman? Phoenix also looked surprised, before smiling warmly at the handsome face before her. _

_"I love you too, Scott, with all my heart. Never doubt it, never forget it." _

_And then, they kissed. The passion and feelings that the two shared were overwhelming. Irene felt the warm flow of tears rolling down her face, the first since she was struck blind. Is it possible that love could alter destiny?_

_The couple's embrace was cut short, however, when a huge figure, far too big to be human, burst out of a nearby skyscraper. Clad in shining blue armour, Apocalypse picked up the young man with a large hand and slammed him into the side of a building, which fractured on impact. Jean cried out as his body fell to the ground, broken and bloody._

_In the screech of a large predatory bird, Jean was engulfed in a mass of flames as she took to the air. In a bright flash of light, Phoenix hurled En Sabah Nur through several city blocks, soaring through the sky in pursuit of the mega-mutant. _

****

**_*End Flash*_**

           Destiny's vision abruptly ended as she snapped back into reality, before the stunned faces of Mystique, Scott and Xavier. It was then she noticed that her cheeks were damp with freshly shed tears. Everyone, especially Raven, was shocked - nobody had seen her cry before.

"Now do you see why I think such an incident could be avoided in the future?" the Professor asked. Obviously, he was still submerged in her mind and thus was likely to have witnessed the same vision. The blind mutant nodded slowly - she finally understood. As long as there was a chance that Phoenix would combat this Apocalypse, her life must be preserved. However, Mystique, who was left in the dark, continued to press their case impatiently in a burst of exasperation and impatience.

"You are a **_fool_** Charles! How can you not understand? She_must_be_eliminated!" she bellowed, forgetting that Scott was still present. 

~_She must be eliminated_~ The words echoed over and over in Scott's head. They were going to kill her. Jean. Fury swelled inside of him and his ruby-quartz glasses started glowing a menacing shade of crimson. ~No~ he thought, ~I cannot allow that to happen. I've been losing things all my life - my family, my home, Alex - I am not going to lose Jean too~ 

           He got up so fast that his chair flipped over backwards. Putting himself before Professor Xavier and the two women, he stood combat ready, his powers illuminating the room in an eerie pink glow, despite the bright sunlight flowing through the windows.  

"I don't care who you are, or what you can do, lady, but if you even _try_ to touch Jean, I'll blow a hole in you like a doughnut," Scott stated calmly, one hand on the frame of his glasses as they burned with barely restrained solar energy. It wasn't a threat; he was just telling the stranger what _would_ happen if she even tried to hurt his best friend.

           The shape-shifter was struck speechless. Very rarely would someone manage to frighten her, but this boy did. The anger in his voice was unmistakable. As the tension escalated, Charles Xavier looked on with proud, fatherly eyes. Normally, the telepath would've encouraged a peaceful resolution, but this time, it was not the case. ~_Maybe I should stop socializing with Logan so much_...~

"Mystique, what is the matter?" Irene asked, curious. She too, in spite of her blindness, has sensed the rising hostility in the room.

"It's the boy. His eyes... they are glowing," her friend snarled. Destiny nodded once again in comprehension. That was the one, the man in the vision. ~_So, this is the one. Destiny has already started to take its course..._~

Mystique continued to stare the boy down with a glare of her own, which shrivelled to a meagre proportion when compared to the fury that was blistering from Scott's glower. "Charles, what are this boy's powers?" the shape-shifter asked angrily, annoyed by the fact that she was intimidated by a mere child.

"Scott's eyes emit an extremely powerful concussive blast that he cannot control. Hence, he must wear his glasses all the time. So far, we do not know exactly how powerful his optic blasts are, since nothing has survived one at full power," the Professor chuckled, amused. "That includes brick walls, thirty-two inch thick titanium-steel plates and... human bodies." He didn't even bother to hide the threat in his words. By now, Storm and Wolverine had burst into the room, and the situation was starting to get out of hand.

"Raven, that's enough!" Destiny ordered, in an attempt to pacify the situation. "We must leave Jean Grey alone..." At this Mystique's jaw dropped in shock. 

"Irene!" she snapped, appalled. A raised hand silenced the shape-shifter as Destiny continued.

"...for she may also be our only hope in a future of apocalyptic oppression. I will explain later, Raven. Charles and ...Cyclops, have opened my eyes, and for that, I am grateful." She smiled, and if it were not for her blindness, she would've been staring right at him - the future leader of the X-men. The young boy just stood there confused. Who was this Cyclops? 

"Our fate is in your hands now, Professor. It is your job to raise Jean right, teach her control of her powers and use them for good, whatever the future brings. The world depends on it." At her beckoning, both she and a disgruntled Mystique got up to leave.

           As Ororo and Logan escorted the two out of the study, Scott relaxed, exhaling slowly as the glow in his dark shades dissipated into nothingness once more. He didn't realize that Xavier was studying him with proud eyes, a single tear rolling down the side of his face. With friendship like that, the Professor was confident that the world would be protected from the wrath of Dark Phoenix. He had no doubt that one day, Scott and Jean's relationship will blossom into a love that will transcend space and time, even Jean's awesome powers. The anxiety in his mind was replaced by the soothing image of two people seeking refuge in each other's arms.

_"You are worth everything there is and ever will be, Red"_

_"I love you too, Scott, with all my heart. Never doubt it, never forget it."_

Charles Xavier found himself wondering how in the universe he could have ever doubted it.  


	8. Chapter 8

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. 

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 8**

           Scott was sitting by his desk skimming over the details of the Canadian landing on Juno Beach when he noticed that MSN had finished its setup and he could finally talk to Jean electronically. She was the reason he got it anyway. Adding her to his contacts list, he sent her a message:

**_salamander_**_: there, I got this damned thing. Happy?_

           Surprisingly, Jean replied almost instantly, and on the same screen. Maybe this program wasn't so bad after all.

**_jeangrey_**_: ecstatic! :-} whats wit da name? salamander? rotflmao!!!!!!!!!!! its even worse than blinkie! _

**_salamander_**_: Wow, just because we're on the 'net, you degrade your english to a grade four level. Impressive._

**_jeangrey_**_: dont dodge my question. Whats wit da name?_

**_salamander_**_: (grand sigh) It was something I picked up in the libraries when I was in the orphanage. I read about all this crap on legends and stuff. Two in particular interested me - the Phoenix and the Salamander._

**_jeangrey_**_: ... and ? _

**_salamander_**_: Nosey, nosey, aren't we? :( Fine, you win. Theologians used the Phoenix to prove the resurrection of the flesh; likewise, they used the salamander as proof that bodies can live in fire. To alchemists, the Salamander was the spirit of the element fire. Leonardo da Vinci believed that the salamander fed on fire to renew its skin.  By legend, the salamander can't be burned. Once, there was this story about a Phoenix who consumed everyone and everything around her with flames. The salamander survived; it was the only thing that did. I sort of admire it – I mean, come on, who wouldn't want to walk through fire and not get burned – but it's also one of my favorite stories. _

****

**_jeangrey_**_: ic_

**_jeangrey_**_: BTW, i always win slim, lol ;)_

**_salamander_**_: Whatever Red. So, you gonna visit soon, or what?_

**_jeangrey_**_: why, did u miss me? :)_

**_salamander_**_: It's a yes or no question._

**_jeangrey_**_: fine, you're no fun :P  yes. my dad agreed to have me stay for another weekend session wit da professor dis week._

**_salamander_**_: That's great. I'll see ya then_

           Just like she promised, Jean had managed to convince her parents, mostly her mom, for a second psychic therapy session this weekend. In a couple hours, her daddy will come to pick her up and drive her all the way to Bayville. The redhead could hardly wait.

           It's funny sometimes how slow time can be when you're counting every second. Jean was finding this out the hard way as she sat through another boring lesson on fractions. Cursing under her breath, the pretty telepath found it extremely irritating that the day was still not over yet. School was half done, but already it felt like she had been stuck in this wretched dump for weeks.

******************************************************************

           Later that day, in a discreet location, just beyond the gardens of the grounds of the Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters, Scott was relaxing in his favourite 'get away' place. It was located on the northern grounds of the mansion properties, along a small, stone path that meandered through a not so dense area of the forest. In the middle of all the trees and bushes, there was a small clearing bisected by a small stream that flowed with crystal clear water. The ground had a very gentle, but distinct, downward slope that offered anyone who chose to lie down on the soft grass a magnificent view of the lake, the sight bordered by the branches of young maples growing nearby. On the other side of the creek, stood a mighty oak, with a large pink boulder decorating the base of its thick trunk.

           Apart from the awesome view, the main reason Scott likes to spend his time here so much is that his powers are still developing. His body seems to enjoy basking in the rich afternoon sun as he soaked up solar energy like a dry sponge. A considerable intake of sunlight or other forms of ambient energy needed to be maintained or else he gets these splitting headaches, although the problem isn't as bad as when his powers first manifested. His body seemed to be able to handle his powers more efficiently as he grew older. 

           A hawk swooped out over the water as Scott spread himself over soft green grass comfortably, staring lazily over the cobalt surface of the lake. The boy was given a small 'recess' from his academic studies, and he intended to make full use of it. So what if Magneto had decided to stir up trouble right in the middle of his history lesson? Lying flat on his back, Scott was just dozing off when he felt the hard touch of a mental call brushing over his mind. It wasn't soft like the Professor's; in fact, it was forceful and untamed. It was Jean.

//Scott, where are you?\\ she broadcasted, trying to search out his distinctive mental signature. The young boy winced - it sounded like the redhead was screaming in his head.

//No need to shout. I'm over here\\ 

//Okay, where's 'over here'?\\ 

//I'm on the north side, behind the gardens. I'll send up a flare so you could follow it, okay?\\

           Once he was sure that she was facing north, Scott slowly removed his glasses and opened his eyes. A straight, brilliant crimson beam streaked vertically through the sky like a homesick angel, feeding off of the sunlight absorbed by his body. Jean caught sight of his optic blast immediately, and simply stared at it in awe for a few seconds. She had never actually seen his powers before, and it took her a moment before she was able to shake off her shock and make her way towards the light. 

           After about half a minute, Scott closed his eyes and replaced his glasses. Shortly after, he saw Jean making her way through some dense undergrowth from the other side of the clearing instead of where the stone path was. She broke out of the small bushes and trees breathing heavily.

"You know, they have paths here for a reason," Scott remarked as his best friend grunted and furiously tried to remove all the leaves and sticks from her long, red hair. 

"Excuse me if I don't know this place as well as you do," she shot back, fighting back a smile. Scott just arched his eyebrows and continued to stare out over the silver lake on one propped elbow.

"So, how was school?" he asked, mild interest in his voice.

"Don't even ask," Jean replied, smoothing out some wrinkles in her shirt and pants before plopping down beside Scott, arms crossed over her knees. "There aren't even enough words in the dictionary to describe how horrible it was." 

"That bad, huh? What did they do to ya - nail you to a crucifix? Make you read Shakespeare?"

"No!" she laughed, but her mirth was quickly replaced by sadness. Scott noticed the change of emotion with concern, and realized that he was about to cross one of those unspoken, invisible lines in their friendship. Some things they just weren't ready to talk about yet. Suddenly, he noticed her arm was bleeding. The boy didn't notice it before because he saw everything in red, but there was now a very distinctive black line that ran across her forearm as the wound started to bleed.

"Jean, your arm..." he pointed.

"What? Oh, it's nothing really. I was walking and then a branch whipped me," she answered, hiding her discomfort.

"Here, let me take a look at it. It's bleeding a lot." Indeed, two small lines of blood began to trickle down her arm.

"Really Scott, I'm fine," Jean replied, ignoring the growing stinging sensation creeping from her wound. Until he noticed it, she didn't realize that she was even hurt.

           Scott, however, was unyielding. "Shut up and let me see it. You don't want it to scar," he ordered, already taking off his t-shirt. Any further protest was silenced as Jean could only stare at his perfectly sculpted body admirably, complying meekly when he told her to hold out her arm. Running two small optic blasts along the length of his shirt, Scott grabbed her wrist gently and started to bandage her wound with the perfectly cut piece of cloth, glad that he paid attention to Ororo's lesson on first-aid.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, more to keep her mind off of the pain than anything else.

"What do you think?"

"Well, you said you were fine before," Scott pointed out, causing her to blush a bit. He finished wrapping up the wound with a small knot.  "There, done. That wasn't so bad, was it?"

           Miraculously, the pain seemed to be consumed by the fuzzy comfort of the makeshift bandage until Jean could hardly feel it anymore. "No, it wasn't," she admitted, still staring at shirtless Scott. Her emerald eyes ran across his trendy crimson shades to his full mouth, then down his well-developed chest, across his hard abs and finally back to his eyes again. All that extra superhero training paid off after all. Her lips curved into an innocent smile, one of approval, as Scott looked on with arched eyebrows.

"Do you always run around topless whenever there's a girl around?"

"Only if they do the same," Scott replied playfully. He felt something smack the back of his head. 

"God, you're awful," Jean laughed, getting up to her feet. "Let's go back to the mansion, you pervert. I'm already late for my session with the Professor."

"Okay." The young boy didn't move from his comfortable spot on the grass, enjoying the dying rays of the sun. "Have fun by yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Scott explained, carefully slipping on each half of his shirt separately, "that there are no adults here. They are-"

"Out on a mission?" Jean supplied, sitting down beside him. He just gave her an amused questioning look.

"You reading my mind _again?_" he demanded with mock anger. Unfortunately, because of his shades, Jean couldn't tell that he was being sarcastic. 

"Whoops...uh...sorry...I didn't-" the redhead stammered, before the sunglasses-sporting mutant dismissed her apology with a wave of his hand.

"I was only kidding," he assured. Jean let out a nervous chuckle as she picked at her shoelaces with apparent interest, blushing all the while. Damn her fair complexion. Agitated by the silence, she asked, "Do you want to play a game?"

"Sure. What game?" 

The telepath started to think about it, before she picked one. "How bout, Twenty Questions? I'll start!" she exclaimed in her usual perky self.

"How bout, I give you seven questions, and in exchange I promise that my answers will bear some semblance of the truth," Scott offered. Jean considered his proposal for a second, before agreeing to his terms.

"Deal. Hm, let's see... what's your favourite hobby?"

"Training," he replied simply. _Wow, that was a no brainer_... 

           Annoyed by how casually and quickly Scott answered, Jean started digging deeper into her mind for a question that'll make him think more. "What is your favourite TV show?"

"I don't watch TV."

           Jean's eyes narrowed menacingly. "What kind of an answer is that?"

"A good one," Scott replied, pleased that she wasted another one of her questions. If his plan continued to work, she would...

"Are you kidding me? You expect me to believe that you really don't watch TV?" 

"No, and yes. That's five," Scott counted, thoroughly enjoying himself as he watched the telepath seethe with barely restrained anger. He knew he was being manipulative and wasn't playing fair, but his time on the streets had taught him that nothing in life was ever fair.   

           ~_He's your best friend_~ Jean repeated slowly to herself ~_You can't rip off his head. Just count to ten and calm down_~  She still had two questions left, which was more than enough.  "What are your three favourite books?"

"I would have to say the Art of War, Everyman a Tiger and Hamlet. Tom Clancy books are also pretty good," Scott answered, before adding, "By the way, that counts as two, because you asked for more than one book, making it seven. My turn."

"What? That is so not fair!" Jean scowled at him. Scott just shrugged, but his calmness just ticked her off more. Feeling cheated, she exclaimed angrily, "Scott Summers, you are impossible! You can't even play a stupid game properly! I'm quitting!" 

           At this, the redhead got up and stormed away. "Jean," Scott called after her, convinced that she'll come back. She didn't. He called her name again, and as before, received no answer. Cursing the silent treatment, he pried his body off of its comfortable position and chased after her, catching up to the angry telepath just as she stepped onto the stone path that led back to the mansion.

"You've got quite a temper," Scott remarked, stopping Jean dead in her tracks by grabbing an arm.

"Let go," she hissed, trying unsuccessfully to pry her limb away from his surprisingly strong grip.

"Jean, it's just a game!" Scott stated, forcing her to turn to look at him. "Look, I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted me to say?" Still, the cold shoulder endured. He started to become really irritated, and he didn't even know why. With one deep sigh, he tried to reconcile the situation one last time. "Fine, I'll give you two more questions."

           With her arms crossed but still not looking at him, Jean mumbled her next question through pouted lips. Scott thought she looked adorable. "What is your favorite colour?" 

           This time, he actually took some time to consider his answer. "Red, I guess, since it's the only colour I'm able to see in anyway. I liked red before too."

           Jean took a moment to consider her next question. She was going to make it count. "What is the colour of your eyes?"

           Scott paused, letting her words sink in, before commenting, "This is getting a bit personal."

"Are you going to answer the question, or not?" Her irritation was beginning to get the better of her again.

           Brows furrowed in concentration, Scott took his time thinking his response over. "I don't know," he said finally, in a soft voice. Jean, thinking that he was lying, growled in frustration and was about to stalk off again when two hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face the teenage boy once more. She was about to scream out when Scott silenced her with a hand over her soft lips. "That's the truth. I don't remember colours anymore, don't know what they look like. Sure, I know their names - purple, yellow, blue, green - but that's as far as it goes." He stopped, finding interest in a small bush as he tested the limits of his private pain. 

"Sometimes, I dream of it, but when I wake up, I always end up forgetting it all. But," he paused, taking a deep breath as he combed his mind for an answer that'll satisfy her, "I think it was the colour of the grass and trees. Blue or purple? I don't know..."

"Green?" she corrected him softly, trying to imagine Scott with green eyes. Her anger finally died as she realized that her friend was telling the truth. 

"I don't know," Scott repeated, unable to look at her. "Whatever the colour the trees and grass are. Everything's all red, black, pink or white to me." 

           Jean just nodded understandingly. "If it helps, I think you would look very handsome with green eyes." At this, Scott's cheeks reddened a bit. 

"Thanks," he whispered, nodding softly. "Too bad you'll never see them."

"I have green eyes too, you know?"

"Then I guess we have a lot more in common than I once thought," he retorted dryly, as if it was something significant. 

           Neither said anything more as they unconsciously made their way back to Scott's place on the grass, overlooking the lake. The sun was just sinking below the gently rolling hills off to their left, painting the sky in brilliant shades of oranges, yellows, purples, blues and greens. Jean rested her head on Scott's shoulder as the two teens stared at the beautiful sight before them.

"Gorgeous, isn't it?" Scott remarked, feeling at peace.

"Hm, I thought you can't see in colour?" she joked.

"That doesn't mean I don't appreciate something beautiful when I see it," he replied, sneaking a quick glance at the girl beside him. ~_Or someone..._~

"I bet it still can't be as good as the real thing," Jean argued, sitting up. For the briefest of moments, her telepathy overcame Xavier's mental blocks, and she heard Scott thinking, ~_You'd lose that bet_~ She assumed that he was talking about the scenery. Suddenly, it didn't seem fair that he wasn't able to see things as they really are. 

"Scott, one day, when I learn enough control of my telepathy, I'll help you see in colour again."

           Scott eyed her skeptically behind crimson walls. He wanted to say something like, 'Sure you can,' but kept his mouth shut. She was only trying to help. "Is that a promise?"

"Yes," she responded, determination etched in her voice. Before either of them could utter another word, a huge black shape, like a bat out of hell, sped over the lake, powered by twin tongues of blue flames. Just as it looked like it was going to slam into a waterfall, a hole in the cliff opened up, swallowing the X-jet in darkness before closing itself again.

"Come on, the others are back," Scott said as he got up, helping Jean to her feet. ~ _Always the gentlemen_~ the redhead thought as she took his hand. "I think it's about time you met the X-men in all their glory anyway." 

           On their way back to the mansion, Jean really wanted to ask Scott one more thing before she let it all go. Uneasily, she took a deep breath, before tapping his shoulder and prompting him to stop. "Can I ask you one more question, Scott?"

"Uhhh, sure, whatever."

"That night, when we were talking on MSN...I asked you...did you miss me...but you didn't say...well, did you?" Jean blurted out, stammering all the way.

           Never one to show much emotion, Scott considered blowing her off, but then he saw the look in her eyes. She needed to hear it. "Of course I did. Jean, what's wrong? What happened at school?" Suddenly, he became worried; what if that blue woman attacked her?

"No nothing, really," Jean lied, burying her face into his shoulder. Her body started shaking as she began to cry silently. Memories of the past week at school replayed themselves over and over again in her head. "Why do you want to be my friend?"

"Are we playing Twenty Questions again?" Scott joked, trying to lighten the mood. He failed miserably. "Jean, what brought this on? Did somebody hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine, really. It's just that... oh, never mind!" she choked out between hiccups. Scott wasn't content with just letting the subject go, but he didn't want to pry either. She'll tell him when she's ready.

And he'll be damned if he wasn't there to listen. 


	9. Chapter 9

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi. Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, SORRY for the long update time. Suffering from writer's block and overload of homework. Speaking of which, don't expect another update anytime soon. Exams are coming up, and fanfics is pretty low in the priority ladder right now. BTW, this chapter has not been properly proof-read, and I just wrote it yesterday morning after watching _the Toad, the Witch and the Wardrobe_.

           One more thing. There is (some implied) subject matter, i.e. rape, child molesting, that is really more suitable for an older audience. Don't blame this on me! Blame it on the couple of fics posted recently by a very good writer *cough*Raedances*cough*  Nothing too overly graphic, though.

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: **_Beyond PG-13_** for some swearing and dark situations.

**Chapter 9**

           Scott was just walking to the elevator when he heard Jean running up to him. He slipped on his favorite jacket when, abruptly, her footsteps stopped. The pretty telepath stood as still as a statue, simply staring at him, jade eyes wide and lips slightly parted in shock.

"Scott?" she managed to stammer. The stranger in front of her turned around with raised eyebrows. All the telepath could think of at that moment was... Wow. A deep, dreamy, _Wow_.

           The oversized leather jacket he was wearing hung stylishly over his broad shoulders, giving the illusion that the skinny boy was a lot bigger than he really was. Deadly optic blasts were blocked by a pair of trendy elliptical goggles that the redhead had never seen before, so dark that they were almost black - it matched his outfit well. And don't even get her started on what he was wearing... It didn't hide much. 

_Oh my God_, Jean thought, _Scott Summers in black latex?_ The tight, glossy fabric (that actually wasn't latex) hugged his powerful body well, stressing the deep lines of his hard muscles. To complete the suit, a gold, Kevlar 'X' ran across the width of his body, crossing over in the middle of his chest, with matching gloves and boots that ran up to almost his knees.

"Like what you see, Jean?" Scott teased as she just stood there and....stared. For a long time. Finally snapping out of her trance, the girl managed to cry out, "Scott, what are you _wearing?"_  

"My brand-spanking-new, X-men uniform. What, you don't like it?"

           'Don't like' would have been the last term the telepath would use to describe what she thought of his 'uniform' right now. Despite her brain screaming at her to look away, Jean found her eyes had other ideas as they ran happily over his body again. Scott continued, ignoring her gaze, "It's not the whole outfit, though. I still need a visor to contain my eyeblasts. Don't want to hit Logan or Ororo by accident."

            However, Jean really wasn't listening, so immersed in her thoughts of Scott Summers in black latex. "Uh-huh," the redhead responded absently, "So...what are you going to do now?"

"What else? Time to test this new baby out."

"Where? In the Danger Room?" Jean asked, wanting to come along. But not to the Danger Room. No way.

"Not this time, Red," he responded smugly. The boy stepped into a small room and pulled out a large snowboard. Time to see how warm and waterproof his suit really is.

           Ms. Monroe said he could take Jean if she wanted to come, but he wasn't sure if she did. The boy decided that a little persuasion wouldn't hurt. "The X-men are going to Mt. Aarros. I would invite you...but this is sort of a guy thing..." He set the bait, watching in wry amusement as Jean's eyes narrowed. 

"...and I'm not sure if a **_girl_** could handle such a difficult assignment," he finished. 

"What's that supposed to mean, Summers?" Jean spat, hands clenched tightly into fists.

"You know very well what I meant. I mean, you'll probably be too afraid to - woah!" He started to walk away, but felt himself yanked back by an invisible force. The telepath grabbed his wrist and practically dragged Scott back to her room.

~_Hell hath no fury...like an angry Jean_~ a little voice in his head laughed. Scott agreed.

"Come on, you **_guy_**. I'm going to get dressed, and then we are going to Mt. Aarros."

***

           Ororo watched the two teens walking towards her with an arched brow as Scott and Jean stepped out of the elevator. The sight was nearly comical. Whereas the boy (young man, she corrected) was clad in his new X-men uniform, Jean was wearing a beige, wool turtleneck underneath a green ski jacket, along with stylish sports pants. The contrast was stunning.

"Are we ready to go?" the African asked. Both nodded in response. Smiling, she looked at Scott. "Since you have almost completed your training, you will be put in charge of this 'mission.' You can start by flying us there in the X-jet."

           Scott's jaw dropped in shock. "Are you kidding me? I've logged only thirty hours of flight time on the bird!"

"But how much time did you spend on the simulator? Almost a thousand?" his instructor countered.

"But that still isn't enough time." Being the son of an SR-71 pilot, Scott was well versed in the world of piloting. However, 'Ro wasn't listening anymore, and was already punching in the access code to the X-jet hanger. Her confidence in his abilities, and Logan's and Charles', was absolute. Flying was second nature to the young boy, along with leadership. But he wasn't ready for the ladder yet.

           The thick, chrome door slid open, granting the three mutants access to the hanger. Jean stepped inside, and found herself up close and personal with a beast. The black figure of the X-jet sat there menacingly on the hard, metal floor, its sinuous curves and sculptural form radiating an almost erotic energy, looking like smooth flawless skin over warm pulsing muscles rather than composite and titanium panels riveted to steel and aluminum ribs. 

"Jean, meet the XR-77 Blackbird," Scott introduced the pride and joy of the X-men to her as he climbed inside its titanium hull. "Powered by twin, TV/VTOL Pegasus engines capable of ripping out twenty tons of thrust each. Top speed is Mach 5 at altitude, and..." he went on to ramble for several minutes on the technical specs and details.

"Where did you learn all that?" Jean asked, once he was finished. Crimson goggles dimmed briefly in sadness as his gloved fingers programmed the last of the flight data.

"My dad was a pilot," he replied, killing the subject with a tone of finality before changing it. "Nap of the earth, 'Ro?"

"You bet. The waypoints are already programmed into the computer. Just a walk in the park," she added.

           Ten minutes and a lot of screams later, Jean was convinced that she was about to die. There's much to be said about flying at treetop height and one and half times the speed sound as the X-jet lanced through the air, leaving a huge heat wave in its wake.

*******************************************************

           She had never skied before. Between spending her time in a mental institute, school, and taming uncontrollable mutant powers, there wasn't much time left for recreational activities. Staring out of a large window as Ororo rented their equipment, Jean caught sight of a shiny black figure carving down a mountain, slaloming his way around obstacles but occasionally flipping and grinding off ramps and metal rails as he saw fit.

~_Scott's really good. Maybe he was right...maybe I'm not in his league_~ she mused sadly. 

           Strapping on stiff, plastic boots before walking awkwardly outside, she stumbled with her skis and ski poles. Just as the redhead was trying to figure out how her bindings worked, Scott sped in quickly at a particularly fast speed, before stopping abruptly right in front of her, blanketing the redhead from head to toe in snow.    

"You know," Jean sputtered out, coughing out some of the white, powdery substance in a mix of amusement and anger, "when I said you should show your fun side more often, I _lied._" With surprising agility, she tackled Scott to the ground, pinning his body down with her own weight and telekinesis.

"Hey!" Scott exclaimed, "Watch the uniform! Don't want to scratch it."

"It looks like it's straight out of a movie," she answered dryly. Smacking him lightly across the cheek, Jean got up off of him. "I want one."

           Now it was Scott's turn to be surprised. "What? You can't have one unless you want to be an X-man."

"Who said I didn't want to be an X-man? Or, _X-girl?_" the redhead replied, fastening her boots into the ski bindings.

"But you're just a student! Not to mention the fact that you have no training!" he pointed out.

"So?" she asked, starting to get annoyed. "I'll learn. Besides, who said I haven't received any training?"

           Jean looked up and laughed at the expression stamped on his face. It was priceless. "I could probably kick your ass in hand-to-hand combat, Slim. I have high-degree black belts in karate and judo."

           Scott looked at her with disbelieving eyes. Not that he thought that Jean wasn't capable of beating him to a bloody pulp, mind you, but the fact that she had the time to train despite her busy schedule. Then he noticed the pained expression in her eyes...and realized that she _shouldn't_. The fact hit like a ton of bricks.

"There's a reason why you started training, isn't there?" Scott asked softly. Jean's grin fled and she remained silent, avoiding his gaze. The two made their way to the ski lifts and sat on one. "Would you like to tell me it?"

           A single tear trickled down her cheek. She wiped it away with her scarf. "One of the people working at the mental asylum I was staying at wasn't exactly decent," she whispered softly.

"_What?!?_" Scott snarled, enraged. "How far did he go?"

"Just groping and molesting. I was drugged to death most of the time anyway. The Professor came and rescued me before the guy worked up the confidence to do more. If he didn't come, well..." her voice trailed off, leaving the thought hang. She closed her eyes, forcing warm rivers of tears out of the corners of her eyelids.

           Scott slid over, embracing her in a tight hug. Pulling out a pack of Kleenexes, he tenderly wiped away the tears from her beautiful face. "It's okay. Never again, do you hear me? Jean, I won't let something like that happen to you ever again, as long as I live." His goggles flashed crimson brightly for affect. 

           Jean smiled, burying her face into his chest. "What about you? Did something like that ever happen to you?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah." Jean looked up at his face, seeing his brows furrowed in concentration.

"It did," he admitted, a scowl on his face. "The guy did it to others too, and then tried to on me. It was the last thing he ever tried." He tapped the side of his goggles nonchalantly. His words and the utterly emotionless tone in which they were articulated caused Jean to shiver in fear and shock.

"You killed him?" The words burst out before she could stop them. _Her best friend was a killer?_

"The fucker deserved it. He raped my best friend, and then strangled her after he was done with his business. Jessica was his fourteenth victim," he added sadly. "I should've done something sooner. But by the time I figured out what was happening, it was too late. I swear, I'll never make the same mistake again."

"Is that why you are so protective?" Jean asked, wrapping an arm around his waist.

"It's the main reason. I don't want to see anyone else that I care about getting hurt." 

***

           Jean was a quick learner, Scott noted as he slalomed after the mass of red hair. In a couple of short hours, his best friend not only mastered the basic skills of skiing but also some of the more intermediate and advanced skills as well, particularly parallel turning and stopping, to the point where she could zip down a black diamond course with relative ease. 

           With the wind rushing past her face, the feeling of speed and the sound of snow grinding under her skis, the fiery telekinetic was certain that she'd never had so much fun in her entire life. And Scott was with her; lately, that's all that seemed to matter. He had been so patient and understanding, showing her the ropes instead of running off by himself...  

//Hey Jean, do you want to head back now for some hot chocolate? We've been going at it for three straight hours straight\\ the boy projected into her head.

//One more run, please?\\ she begged.

//Red, that's what you said the last eight times\\ he counted. Ahead of him, the telepath moaned exasperatedly and turned towards the lodge.

//Fine, you're no fun. But I want to try the big one again when we're done\\

"Whatever you want, Red," Scott said, pulling up beside her.

           Ororo was already waiting for them inside the cozy building, and bought the two some hot drinks and food before telling them that they'll have to leave in two hours. The African woman then left the two teens alone, intent on returning to the mountain slopes for a few more adrenaline rushes.

           As Jean and Scott settled into a little table in a corner, sipping hot chocolate and chatting amicably, three older girls, about seventeen, walked over and cast their shadows over the two. Both the teens turned to look at the strangers as the apparent leader of the group, a gorgeous dark-haired brunette, cleared her throat to speak.

"Nice 'board," she practically purred, examining Scott with deep blue-green eyes. Jean decided right off the bat that she and this woman were **_not_** going to get along. "Where'd you get it?"

           Scott shrugged, taking a sip out of his mug. He noticed the slight flush in her cheeks, the way she looked at him, and the knowing smiles on her friends' faces. The stranger was trying to flirt with him. 

"Don't know. It was a gift," he answered, in a tone Jean recognized as a leave-me-alone-now-because-you-are-really-annoying-me tone.

           The woman didn't get the hint. "We saw you on the half-pipe earlier today. Where'd you learn to board like that?"

"Around," he responded vaguely. Scott had also seen them earlier, and concluded that these girls were, indeed, professionals. The boy also didn't miss the fact that she was now staring very approvingly at his X-men uniform and leather jacket. Jean didn't miss it either, for that matter - with his goggles hanging loosely around his neck, his brown hair spilling adorably off his forehead and signature ruby-quartz glasses shining in the dim light, it was hard not to notice a guy like Scott.

"How bout we go out a little later and run some of the hills together?" she suggested seductively. She absently twirled a lock of reddish-brown hair around an index finger.

           Jean's breath caught in her throat. If Scott were to go snowboard with these people, there was no way that the redhead would be able to keep up. She would once again be alone; but she's been there and done that. So why was she so upset this time? Hiding her disappointment as best as she could, Jean quickly finished what she was eating and got up to leave. Her best friend watched her with concern through a wall of ruby-quartz, catching her wrist as the telepath was about to walk off. 

"Thanks," he told the strangers, "But we had other plans." Picking up his board and swinging an arm around Jean's shoulder companionably, the two teens strode away from the three women, leaving their mouths hanging open. 

           As they made their way outside, Jean rested her head dreamily on Scott's shoulder, thinking that, as far as best friends go, she could certainly do worse.


	10. Chapter 10

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. 

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 10**

           Up in the sky, the overcast ruptured in a burst of white flames as the X-jet took off. Contrails of heat and water vapour spilled carelessly over its forward swept wingtips as the pilot brought it up to cruising altitude, eyes glowing a silver-blue haze as her mutant powers dissipated some of the moisture in the wet spring air. The air above was surprisingly calm and serene despite the turbulent layer of clouds below, and Storm could feel the onset of a thunderstorm building up. They had to get back soon.

"Did you guys have fun?" Storm asked from the pilot seat, not turning to look at her charges.

"Yes," Jean replied, letting her head fall back tiredly against the headrest. Two more hours of skiing after that little incident in the lodge had taken its toll, even on her. A small smile crept to her rosy lips as Jean snuck a quick glance at the boy sitting beside her, resisting the urge to run her fingertips along his cheeks. At the moment, he seemed like some incarnation of peace and innocence, all shields and defences lowered and the scowl he always seems to wear gone. Very rarely did he let down his guard, even around her, and now that he did, the telepath didn't want to break the moment.__

_"Why didn't you go skiing with those girls? Wouldn't you have more fun with them?" Jean asked, strapping on her bindings again._

_"Boarding isn't as important to me as testing out the uniform." He threw her her ski poles. "Besides, I'd rather hang around other things for a couple of hours than a few attractive girls."_

_           At that last part, Jean frowned a bit. "Like what?"_

_"Oh, I don't know...redheads, maybe?" he teased, playfully batting at her ponytail. She gaped at him in mock shock, trying her best not to laugh. _

_"Mr. Summers! Are you trying to flirt with me?"_

_"Hell no, Miss Grey. I can think of plenty of less painful ways to die, thanks."_

_"Ugh, you are **so** dead, Slim." _

           Jean spent the rest of the time chasing him around, finally resorting to tripping him with her TK right off the ski lifts before kicking the stuffing out of him. Yee-uup, there were certainly worse ways to spend an afternoon than beating up her best friend, but it would've been even more enjoyable if Scott actually smiled or laughed. Then again, how many people would laugh during their beating?

           Looking at him now, his rich, chestnut hair has lost much of its volume, while his goggles were dark and breathing slow and even. By the way that his head was resting heavily on her shoulder (he didn't mean to, it just sort of fell there), it was quite obvious Scott was fast asleep.

           Being so enthralled by Scott, Jean didn't realize that they were being watched carefully by a weather witch. Ororo knew very well what was going on, despite having her back turned. As Logan had said, the two were starting to get a little bit too comfortable for being _just_ friends.

_~We are going to have to keep our eyes on those two_...~ 'Ro smirked. 

           Despite their undeniable closeness, the Kenyan, along with the other instructors, was shocked by how quickly the little redhead was able to bring Scott out of his shell. Over the past week, everyone noticed a drastic change in his behaviour (for the better), save for maybe the child himself. Logan even claims to have heard him speak more in the past week than in the past year, and often teased their student about it.

Calling him Slim instantly became the quickest way to shut him up, or, if they're lucky, to score a blush. 

"It sounds like you're losing him back there," the woman chuckled. The two have known each other for only two weekends, but acted like they had been friends for several years.

"Yes," Jean whispered softly, not wanting to wake her best friend. "We went down a lot of hills."

"Maybe you shouldn't push him so hard next time, huh Jean?" Ororo smiled from the pilot seat. "Or beat the stuffing out of him."

"Maybe I won't," the redhead blushed, careful not to raise her voice too much. _Were we that noticeable?_ Suddenly, despite her best attempts to fight it, Jean slowly started to drift off herself. She didn't mean to, but even the air around Scott seemed to be saturated with calmness and a sense of tranquility, and, being so close to him, it was rubbing off on her. Slowly, her eyes fluttered shut and her own breathing slowed as the telepath dozed off lightly.

"Storm, come in, can you read me?" Charles' voice crackled over the radio. The older woman quietly closed the hatch to the cockpit, so that the kids would be able to sleep in peace.

"Storm here. Is there a reason you're using the secure radio-link, Charles?"

           Her answer took her completely by surprise. "It's cause we've got some business ta discuss, 'Ro." 

"Logan?" _But wasn't he...in Canada?_ "How's the mission, going?"

"He'll brief you later. Cerebro has recently detected several other mutants, and already Logan is on his way to contact one in Germany. But that's not what we're here to talk about." He stopped, letting Logan carry on for him.

"I ran into Sabertooth," Logan said, rubbing the area where Creed had almost ripped off his arm. "Things are startin' ta get out of hand - we simply can't handle everythin' between da three of us anymore. Soon, kids like Scott are gonna get involved. We need to discuss some type of chain of command in the X-men."

"I understand," the African responded, nodding understandingly in the cockpit. "You don't think its enough that this new team takes directives just from us."

           Charles smiled. She had always been unnaturally fast to catch onto things. "Precisely. And with all the contacts I have been keeping, we may pretty soon have a large number of students attending the school, many of whom will train as X-men. Cerebro has already been able to detect several Alpha-level mutations, two of which I'm sure you are already familiar with, Robert Drake and Jubilation Lee, whom have yet to manifest their powers, but once they do, their parents have agreed to send them to the Institute."

"We're not always going to be here. The X-men may benefit from a field leader, someone these younger children could look up to," the telepath finished.

           There was a long pause in the cockpit as the radio hummed in silence. "So?" Logan asked, prompting the Professor to continue. "Ya got any ideas?"

"Not at the moment. I was sort of hoping to see how this unfolds once we enroll more students, but I imagine that this person will have a level head..."

"...he's gotta be cool under pressure, smart..."

"...and capable of empathy and encouragement...Logan, who said it can't be a 'she'?"

"Yes," the Professor pondered, immersed deeply in his thoughts. "Someone like..." 

------__

_"Scott, Scott!"_

_A little kid, with deep blue eyes and a thick mop of blond hair, ran quickly through the plane. His sweet, boyish voice was full of anxiety and panic as he shook his brother awake frantically. "Come on, wake up!"_

_"Hmmm? Alex?" A mini-Scott, no more than eight, groaned tiredly, blinking away the huge migraine he had been having. Lately, he seemed to be getting a lot of 'em. Scott looked at his kid brother and smiled faintly. _

_"What's the matter? You wet your pants again, Alex?" he teased._

"I DO NOT WET MY PANTS!"     __

_           Scott laughed, a rich, wonderful laugh that bounced warmly off the empty walls. "Ree-lax. I was kidding," he assured. "So, what's wrong?"_

_"You were sleeping, and then there was this big explosion," Alex flung his arms around for emphasis, complete with personal sound effects. "And then the plane started shaking and then-"_

_"Whoa, slow down, bro. I'm sure Dad's already on it. He's the best pilot in the whole air force, remember?" His brother nodded meekly, but before anything could happen, Katherine Summers burst into the cabin, fear and alarm clearly etched in her face._

_"Hurry!" the woman cried, rushing past the children to the two backpacks hanging on the far wall._

_           The two boys looked on with shock. Those were _parachutes_. But that would mean something really bad happened...and there were only two of them. A slow sense of dread crept up Scott's spine at the sick notion of knowing what's going to happen next. No, this can't be happening..._

_"Mommy?" Alex squeaked, voice dripping with confusion and renewed fear. He jumped when his father's voice rang out from the cockpit._

_"Kate! The controls have seized! This is as good the plane's going to get. Both engines are out, and its only a matter of time before...just tell the boys to jump when I say so!"_

_"Quickly, strap these on," their mother ordered, hands trembling with fear. Both boys quickly strapped the packs onto their backs, buckling them securely in place as their mother instructed them on the use of the parachutes, pointing out their rip-chords. Quickly yanking open the door, the woman hastily pushed her children towards it. Scott quickly turned around and held onto her arm, his knuckles turning a pearly white._

_"Mom, I am not leaving without you or dad," he shouted over the wind exploding through the door. Things started thrashing violently about, banging loudly against the metal hull of the plane, as his mother struggled to keep her long brown hair out of her face. _

_           Katherine sighed, bending down to kiss each of her children tenderly. "Scottie, you have to. We are going to be fine. Just promise to take care of Alex in case anything goes wrong, okay honey?"_

_           The boy still looked reluctant, silently begging her with his beautiful green eyes. Slowly, she reached out with her other hand and cupped his face fondly, rubbing his cheek with her thumb. Scott and Alex had the most striking eyes she'd ever seen - the most beautiful pairs of forest green and sky blue emeralds in the world. If only..._

_"Scott," his father called out from the pilot's seat, sensing his wife's resolve waning. "You have to be strong. You have to be brave, my son. We are counting on the both of you."_

_"But dad!" he pleaded, his hand already searching out Alex's even as the younger boy started to sob. However, Christopher Summers barrelled on, ignoring his protests._

_"Make me proud, son. Take care of your brother, okay?"_

_           This wasn't happening to him. This **can't** happen to him. He was only eight - up until a few minutes ago, his whole life had been laid out before him. There was so much he didn't see, so much he still wanted to do - with his family. He wanted to be a fighter pilot, just like his father. He wanted to fly **with** his father. Suddenly, Scott doubled over as a streak of pain tore through his head, and for a brief instant, all he saw was red. Crimson red._

_~Make me proud...~ _

_"Scott, I'm scared." The voice of his brother brought him back to reality. What was he doing? This was an emergency - he needed to be strong. His family needed him to be strong. Besides, he reasoned, blinking away his headache, grown-ups know better. _

_It was time. _

_           With renewed confidence, Scott turned to Alex. "Don't worry, everything's going to be okay." He then turned to his mother and his father. "Mommy and Daddy must know what they are doing."_

           His father smiled. "That's my boy. Now on my mark..." They were past 8000 ft AGL, a good height from which they could jump. Above 8000 ft, his boys would surely pass out due to the lack of oxygen. The Major of the U.S. Air Force slowly stabilized anything he could as the plane sunk lower, until everything held at 5000 ft.

_"Anytime now, Kate!" he shouted from the cockpit. Everyone could feel him straining to keep the plane as level as possible as his wife made the final preparations for their jump._

_"We love you." Hastily, she shoved something into both of her son's hands, before gently pushing them out the door. _

_           The sudden roar of the wind was deafening, and Scott's eyes stung as the air whipped across his face. As the stricken plane streaked across the sky above them, trailing a thick line of smoke, he caught sight of Alex, only an arm's length away. Slowly, he reached over and grabbed his hand, responding to his surprised face with a reassuring smile. _

_Slowly, Scott counted to eight potatoes before..._

_"Alex! Pull your cord!" he shouted. However, he could barely hear his own voice over the fierce wind, and seriously doubted Alex could._

_"What?"_

_"The cord! Your cord!" Grunting in frustration, he reached over himself and ripped Alex's parachute open, the sudden loss of speed seemingly jerking his younger brother up and away from him. Satisfied, he pulled his own, groaning loudly as he was yanked to a much slower speed. _

_           Abruptly, their parents' plane exploded in a fiery cloud of dust and debris. Scott looked on in horror as his parents disappeared in a flash of flames, not even noticing the piece of burning metal that pierced his chute, burning a large hole in its nylon structure before slicing off some suspension lines on its way through. Alex cried out in horror as his brother spiralled away from him, faster and faster, disappearing into the overcast below them._

_"SCOTT!"_

           With a gasp, Jean jolted awake, the impact of the dream leaving her nerves rattled and breathing heavy. Slowly, realization settled in: that wasn't some ordinary dream - it was a memory. God, that actually _happened_. Suddenly, being several thousand feet up in the air in the X-jet didn't seem like the safest place to be. As she listened to the light hum of its engines and the muted roar of the air rushing over its titanium hull, the redhead visibly shrivelled into herself, unconsciously latching onto the warm body beside her for comfort.

Which was moving; Scott was awake. ~Oh no...he's going to kill me~

"Jean..." there was a slight edge of irritation in his voice, but Scott let her hold him, which she took as a good sign. His own body was shaking terribly, and she noticed that his breathing, like hers, was also heavy and ragged. "Did you just see what I think you did?"

"Uhh, see what?" Jean replied nervously. Her best friend saw right through her act and felt something tighten in his chest.

"I can't believe you!" Scott cried frustratingly. He quickly pulled away from her arms and ran a shaky hand through his hair, not really knowing what to do; not sure who, or what, to be angry at, but badly wanting _something_ to vent his anger on. "Can't you at least _try_ to stay out of my head? I know that you have trouble and still training, but sometimes I get the impression that you want to get in my mind!" 

"Scott, it was an accident!" Jean stammered, tears in her eyes. _Please no, not again,_ she begged silently, not wanting to repeat _that_ incident a week before. "I fell asleep, and then it happened...but I was asleep...I didn't mean to, really...and then-" The telepath started to babble on with apologies and excuses, the fear of losing him clearly reflected in her eyes.  

"It's okay," Scott interrupted, feeling bad for making her all teary-eyed. However, Jean didn't seem to hear him as she continued to ramble on. "Jean! It's alright!"

Abruptly, her babbling stopped. "What?"

"It's okay. I...understand. It's just that, sometimes, I like my...privacy, you know? And I know you don't mean to, but..." Feeling his self-control returning, he waved it off with a deep sigh. 

"I'm not mad at you." His best friend exhaled deeply in relief. 

"Really?" Scott nodded faintly, and Jean could tell that his eyes were closed by the way his goggles were so dark. This must be really hard on him, although it shouldn't be. Friends are supposed to share things with each other. Slowly, she slipped her fingers between his, squeezing his hand for comfort.

"Yeah," he assured, squeezing back. An uncomfortable silence settled over the cabin for several minutes, until finally, Scott couldn't take it anymore.

"It's okay. You can ask me something about it - the dream - I don't mind." He squeezed her hand comfortingly again, and, even with his eyes closed, Scott knew that Jean was wondering whether she was 'permitted' to ask him something about the memory. Since she already saw it, she might as well know the rest, he supposed. He hated cliff-hangers himself.

"I thought I was the telepath here," Jean giggled, playfully smacking him in the arm. "How did you how did you survive? I mean...most people don't from a free-fall dangling from a burning parachute with half its lines cut, so..." she trailed off, nervously playing with her hair.

           Scott looked away, taking a moment to consider his response, having not really thought about that particular aspect of that memory before. All he really remembered was the end of it signalled the beginning of another nightmare, this time washed over in red hues. "My powers kicked in at the last second. At first, I didn't know what was happening - things just started to explode - but then, for some odd reason, I looked at the ground and my eyebeams slowed my fall. Destroyed half a mountain in the process, but at least I made it."

The look of sadness that flickered over his face didn't escape her. "You look like if you would've been better off had your powers not manifested - if you had died."

"Well, it's not like my _gifts_ did anything to save my family, and then they go haywire right after."

"Scott...there was nothing you could've done."

"How can you be so sure?" For an instant, his mask of confidence disappeared, leaving behind a figure of doubt. "I couldn't even protect the people I cared most about. How can I possibly be an X-man?"

"Slim, stop talking like that!" Jean hissed, twisting him around to face her. "There was nothing you could've done to save your parents. Gosh, I don't know how you could be so witty and in control one moment and the next you become this...scared, brooding little boy.

"I've seen - actually, more like felt - some of your thoughts, and, like, I've never felt someone so alone. It's almost like you feel _unwanted_ or something. Scott, I'm not trying to play your shrink or something, but you are worth it, Slim, despite what you might think. You could've done nothing to save your parents."

           He snorted in disgust. "Whatever Jean. I still don't see how you can jump to conclusions when you barely even know me." Pause. "I swear, if I ever feel that helpless again, I'll kill myself."

"Maybe not," Jean admitted, grinning devilishly, "but I already know you better than anyone else, and we had only known each other for a few days. I think I have a fairly good idea figuring out how your mind works - at least, I'm the best at it."

           Her heart jumped as Scott _almost_ smiled. "Fair enough," he conceded. Climbing to her knees on her seat, Jean leaned over to hug him, but he pulled away.

"Uh, what are you...?" Scott stared at her blankly and with a little tinge of fear. 

           Jean sighed overdramatically. "What do you think, stupid? It's called a hug, and friends share them to feel make each other feel better." Her arms were still outstretched.

"Guys don't," he replied flatly. The boy instantly regretted his words as the smile on Jean's face fled, replaced by a slight frown.

"Do I look like a guy, Summers?" She sighed again, a spike of hurt - real or fake, Scott couldn't tell - in her voice as she dropped her arms to her sides and sat back in her seat. "If you don't want to, then that's okay. I...understand."

"No, it's..." Scott frowned, suddenly at a loss. Before, he could've saved some of his male pride by simply accepting the hug. Now, he had to make the first move, and, being the aloof and socially intolerable person that he was, this was an extremely uncomfortable idea for Scott. Damnit, he _knew_ that this was just one of her ploys to get him to 'lighten up,' but it was working. This girl had been getting to him since day one. 

"Fine," he mumbled, more to himself than to Jean. Steeling himself bravely, he casually lifted his arm and slipped it around her shoulders, exhaling deeply in relief when she didn't pull away. "Happy?"

           Jean giggled, her emerald eyes glinting with a hint of mischievousness that made Scott dizzy and light-headed. "Yup, you can say that. Although this isn't really a hug..." she sighed, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Oh, I don't know," Scott muttered exasperatedly, blushing profusely. "I've never did...Is something wrong?"

           Her breathing was still unnaturally heavy and her head felt a lot warmer than usual. However, Jean dismissed his concern casually. "I'm fine. Just...a bit airsick."

           Scott looked at her dubiously, but said nothing more about it.

**_AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, this is here, right after exams just as I promised. Feedback is appreciated!_**

**_           One more thing. In this chapter, there is one line that is virtually identical (? Not really sure exact conditions) to one in Minisinoo's AioF, the 'red hair' and, subsequently, the flirt, line. This doesn't even include the very distinct similarities between fics that deal with the Summers brothers' parachute jump, and is very hard to avoid this unless you set an AU. I didn't set an AU. _**

**_           I really didn't mean to, but by the time I noticed it, it was really too late. I tried hard to avoid it, but the best I could come up with was 'redheads.' Since I wanted to move onto the next chapter, and I'm not really talented enough to accomplish a complete re-work, I just posted this. _**

**_           In light of recent reuses of popular lines from popular JOTT fics such as Jen's Snow and EB, EvoJean's Amazing(s) and Minisinoo's other fics, without permission, I just felt that I should include this._**

**_Really, this is a serious issue: In my school, when once I was simply just *suspected* to have plagiarized, I got an automatic sixty. I didn't even know there was a Sparknotes website! (I do now, Mwuhahahahah!!!)  Moral of the story - give credit where credit is due, even if it was unintentional and, 'imitation is the sincerest form of flattery,' and all that._**

**_Hey, I just figured something out with the formatting of the story! You don't need to double space!!! (but it makes revision so much harder) I never knew that. _**

**_Cheers :)_**


	11. Chapter 11

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, for some reason, the past couple of chapters, this one and the next ones were impossibly hard to write. In all honesty, I failed miserably, and right now, am just not a happy camper. I think I need to plan these things out more. Oh well. 

         Beware, Mags is introduced, and his friendship with Charles should be explored further in the next chapter. He's actually one of my favorite characters, but in Evo, they made him _way_ too weak (Scott too). On another point, I have no intention of introducing him to Scott and Jean, because their first meeting was in Cauldron, if we follow Evo-verse.

         Oh yeah, one more thing (I promise). Ororo's 18! That's right. So in this timeline, right now, she would be Scott/Jean's age in Evolution. Logan is like an immortal, so don't ask. 

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. 

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13

**Chapter 11**

"So," John Grey started, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in during the ride home. Everyone, minus Jean, had driven out to see the grandparents for the Saturday, enjoying the evening together, having dinner, playing board games, watching football - family stuff. The night was relatively uneventful, save for when somebody asked where Jean was. John had to quickly come up with a cover story (something about 'further education' at a school for gifted children) that left eyebrows arched in suspicion, but thankfully, nothing more was said about it.

"Yes?"

"About Jean." Pause. "Maybe we should-"

"No." 

"Honey-" he started, but was cut off again.

"John, _no!_ I refuse to enlist my youngest daughter into that school of freaks! There must be some other way."

         Her husband sighed dejectedly. He loved Elaine dearly, but sometimes, there was simply no way to get through to her. Kinda like Jean... "Honey, it's for the best. Charles can give Jean an opportunity that we cannot - a chance at a normal life."

         Elaine was about to disagree, but stopped herself, taking some time to reflect upon his words. They've been discussing the issue for the past week, and kicking the idea around for several years. Deep down, she knew he was right, but the irony was almost painful. Seeing her mother deep in thought, Sarah spoke up. "Yeah, like, I agree with dad here, mom. Ever since..." She cringed slightly at her mother's shocked face. "Ever since she visited that place, there hadn't been a single incident with her mutation. No more accidents and major headaches. And she seems happier, for some reason." Sarah left out the fact that her younger sister talked about this boy she met (Scott – she heard it so many times that by now it had been drilled into her brain) a lot more than necessary, but refrained from telling her parents. They might explode.

His confidence swelled when Elaine didn't respond. Deciding to push his luck, he continued. "There is no other way. Charles and Jean share very similar mutations, and already she has exercised greater control and confidence in everything over the past week. She'll be better off, honey, at the Institute."

         His wife looked away sadly. "I never wanted this. I don't think she wanted any of this either. Ever since...ever since she manifested, she has been so unhappy...it tears me apart sometimes."

"It tears me apart too," John replied comfortingly. "But ever since the Institute, she's been acting different. She may not be as happy as before, but she's no longer afraid either. I think it's time for us to stop wishing for something that can never happen and just accept Jeannie for what she really is: a growing girl with extra abilities that nobody else has."

Elaine didn't reply immediately; she knew what he said was true, but it still took time to digest. "Will she be safe there? I mean, the man with the claws, and then that boy..."

         John nearly laughed. "Don't worry about it. From what Charles told me, I think our baby girl can more than take care of herself. If anything, I'm more worried about...what was his name? Scott? Anyway, remember all the trouble that Annie and Jean got into when they were little?" At the memory, he chuckled fondly.

         His wife joined in too, while Sarah scowled. "Like the time when they put on Sarah's make-up? I've never seen her so angry in her life."

"That makeup cost me three month's worth of _allowance_, Mom." Her mother just laughed harder.

"Or when they got into our closet?" John countered, sending Sarah into a fit of giggles while Elaine frowned. "I've never seen **_you_** so angry in my life. At least now I know where Jeannie got her temper from."

         His wife huffed mock angrily. "That was my **_wedding dress_** they ruined. And you could've been more supportive," she scolded him lightly.

"He ran off to get the camera, remember?" Sarah smirked. It was quite a sight; between her make-up and her mother's clothes, Jean and Annie looked quite ridiculous.

         An easy silence settled into the car, until the implications of the situation finally took their affect. "John, what if Jean fell in love with another mutant? Like that boy, Scott, for instance? What if they got married, and had mutant children? What if they-"

"Elaine, you're going to drive yourself crazy," he cut in politely. "Besides, that's something Jean has got to figure out on her own - we have no control over who she falls in love with." His hand casually searched out hers as he continued to drive through a sudden, and unexpected, thunderstorm. "Besides, you don't know that could happen. The Professor's intending to enrol all his students into the local high school, remember? So Jeannie could very well be spending most of her time with other, non-mutant teenagers. In any case, she doesn't seem to be making a lot of friends here, so it may be better for her to start all over."

"I still don't like the fact that she'll be spending so much of her time with that boy. He could be dangerous."

"Relax Elaine. I'm sure our Jeannie is absolutely safe."

***

_zzzz-krack!_ A lamppost burst into a shower of sparks as its tungsten filaments were upset by an overdose of electrical energy. Nearby, the source of the disturbance floated by as a silver orb landed a few yards off the road in a patch of wet grass. Thunder tore through the sky as its metallic surface mechanically came apart, heralding the appearance of the Master of Magnetism as he stepped out of his ride darkly. 

         All things metal around him started to rattle with unnatural ferocity as he charged up his awesome powers. He was Eric Lensherr, the most powerful being on the planet, gifted with the complete mastery of the electromagnetic spectrum. His very presence struck fear into the hearts of his fiercest opponents. They were fools - Mystique and Destiny. To even think that he doesn't know of this girl, Jean Grey. Unknown to them, he and Charles still shared some information of their students, even though the two friends have diverged on separate paths many years ago. Neither saw any harm in advancing the future of mutants; it was just the manner in which this would be accomplished that caused them to separate. Thus, Magneto knew all about Jean Grey and Scott Summers; just as Charles knew about John Allerdyce, Pietro and Wanda.

         He knew that Cerebro classified Jean Grey as an Alpha mutant in the same class as himself - which is exactly why he needed to speak with him, and meet this girl - without interruptions. Cloaked in darkness, his eyes flashed amber brightly as a silver Mercedes sped by. Seizing the vehicle in an inescapable magnetic grip, he casually destroyed the metallic rims of its two front tires and smashed it into a tree, callously ignoring the spark of human emotion and guilt that flashed at the sight of the wreckage before him. 

         This had to be done. There was going to be a war, and, in a war, collateral damage was inevitable. It was time for Homo Superior to rightly take their place above human beings.

****************************************        

         At eighteen years old, Ororo Monroe was the youngest member of the teaching staff at the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters, and Professor Xavier's first student. As a child, her parents were tragically killed during a family vacation to the Middle East, leaving her to fend for herself. Until the manifestation of her powers, the weather-witch survived as an expert thief, mastering the virtues of stealth and speed in order to survive the harsh brutality of life on the streets.

         Thus, she had always been the one who was able to reach Scott the most, because the two could relate. The woman wasn't exactly sure on what the boy had to do in order to survive, but she knew it had something to do with his powers. Fortunately, when her powers manifested, she was believed to be a goddess by an African tribe, who hailed her as an Elemental Spirit. When Scott's powers manifested, he was brutally beaten and subdued, and was used to break into banks and buildings to further the cause of the gangs his foster father ran.

         Optic blasts. In many aspects, it could've been a gift. In Scott's case, it was more like a curse. The sheer destructive nature of his powers combined with their absolute uncontrollability made him _dangerous_, both to his enemies and to his friends. Ororo frowned as she continued to read over the latest test results, running over a few graphs and figures. In the background, a television was on, its screen replaying footage of blast walls and metal barricades succumbing easily under an assault of a crimson storm.

"Charles, this..._this_ isn't good. All these numbers, these charts and lines, I've never seen anything like it." Her voice carried a hint of despair as she threw the stack of papers frustratingly on top of his desk. Even though much of it was printed in numbers, the message was clear – unless something could be done to tame his powers, there was no way Scott could be an X-man.

"Agreed," the Professor responded, equally distressed. "Scott begins to lose his control at forty-five percent output, and by the time he reaches 60% - called the 'Red Zone,' enough to kill - he has absolutely no aim at all." The man didn't mention the fact that in the Red Zone, Scott's eyes are already discharging a force equal to the detonation of four tons of TNT. It was estimated that at full power, his output would be over two times greater, possibly even three.

         Ororo digested this information silently for a few minutes. "Charles, I will be honest with you. I...I'm scared to go into battle with him. Not just for my safety, but for everyone else's as well. Once he takes off those glasses, not even Logan..." she trailed off fearfully. The silence spoke for her.

The woman looked up to see her former mentor smiling at her. "Ororo, how's your Greek mythology?" he asked.

"Rusty. Why?"

"Are you familiar with the legend of the Cyclops?" Ororo shook her head, vaguely summarizing what she knew about them through the tale of Odysseus – how one of them, Polyphemus was struck blind.

"Very good, but there's more to the Cyclops' than Polyphemus and his taste for human flesh. The Cyclops' were a people, who've suffered much hardship throughout their time. At first, they were thrown into Tartarus, a place deeper and darker than Hades' kingdom of the Underworld – as you know, the ultimate of prisons." Ororo nodded her head faintly, prompting the Professor to continue. "When Zeus, the king of Gods, released them from Tartarus, setting them free, do you know what they gave him as a sign of gratitude?"

She shook her head no.  

"They gave Zeus, Ororo, his ultimate weapon. The lightning bolt - the sign of his power and authority, an instrument that struck down not only his father and his allies in the War of the Titans, but also his foes in the second War of the Gods." There was a long pause.

"Ororo, Scott will give us the power to overcome Magneto, if necessary. In fact, from what we know, it's almost certain that it will be necessary. In any case, I'm sure Dr. Taylor Prescott will be able to think of something. He came through for Scott once before." Xavier paused. His features suddenly turned deadly serious. "We must not utter a single word of this conversation to Scott, or anyone else if it can be avoided. These test results will only serve to discourage the boy further, and although Scott is unlikely to do anything rash in the event he obtains this information, I feel that it might be better if we withhold this data until we've reached a definite conclusion."

Ororo, despite the dark mood, chuckled. "Well, at worst, we can always rely on Jean to pull Scott out of his miseries." 

         At this, Charles raised his eyebrows slightly. "Oh? What happened today?" 

"Nothing really, but...let's just say that those two got a bit comfortable with each other on the way home." She sighed, enjoying the budding romance growing between the two. An easy silence settled over the room, until they were forced to return to business once again. "How's Jean's progress? Any improvement?"

         The Professor suppressed the urge to sigh disconsolately. As the only psychic on the teaching staff, the education and training of Jean Grey's powers fell under his responsibility. Over the past couple of weeks, the young girl had showed some progress, but nothing to gloat about. If anything, it only proved to him what he had been told and always suspected - Jean Grey will one day become the most powerful mutant on the planet. If her powers were fully unlocked, she had the potential to make even Scott's eyeblasts seem like a mere cherry bomb in comparison.

"Fine," he lied. The telepath didn't want to distress his colleague anymore than she already was, and, besides, there was nothing Storm, a non-telepath, could do in any case.

         She just nodded understandingly. Unfortunately, it didn't occur to anyone that exposing Jean to the unshielded thoughts and feelings of a myriad of people in a public place, such as the resort, could do to the young telepath as they lounged around the fireplace. A sickening crack of thunder seemed to echo an impending calamity that was simply waiting to happen as the two adults sat alone in silence, absently staring into the flickering tongues of fire as they danced about.

Then the phone rang.

***

         Jean stumbled into the bathroom, collapsing before the toilet and immediately emptying her bowels into it. Her psychic migraines had never been this severe, or lasted this long, since she came out of her coma - this one started on the flight home. Her parents had just called and said they were going to leave her here. It hardly came as a surprise that her parents had left her again. Alone and abandoned, again. Images of Annie, the hospital, the asylum - it all came flooding back. She hung up on them before they could say anything more; honestly, she didn't want to hear how they still loved her, or how she was their daughter, or any other crap anymore.

         Teetering on the brink of unconsciousness, her vision blurred as her gut wrenched convulsively. Sitting there half-conscious and throwing up occasionally, she cried her heart out, until there were no more tears left. _Why don't they love me anymore? Am I really that bad?_

"Jean, are you okay?" Scott's voice asked sometime later, muted by the locked bathroom door. The telepath didn't answer. She must've been in here for hours, and didn't want Scott to see her like this. Suddenly, all coherent thought slipped away as Jean doubled over once again, practically retching the life out of her weak body. Things started to slip in and out of focus, and faint...she started to feel faint... 

"Jean?"

         With a reluctant sigh, Scott shifted his glasses slightly, a thin beam of crimson blasting apart the doorknob easily before he stepped inside. The sight before him caused the boy to gasp in shock. "Jean!"

         Back in the days of the orphanage, migraines were a fact of life, something he grew up with. Ever since his eyeblasts were activated during the accident, his body would react violently to a lack of ambient energy, usually sunlight, to fuel his powers. Being 'low on batteries,' as Scott described it, was an experience he didn't intend to repeat. However, from what the Professor had told him, psychic migraines were far worse - as Jean was proving to him at her own expense. Scott slowly approached her as she struggled weakly to hold back her long, scarlet hair. Kneeling down beside her, he gently collected her hair into a neat bun, holding it in place as her body entered another fit of spasms. She needed help.

"Scott?" Jean called out weakly, her telepathy slicing through his weak shields. The redhead collapsed backwards into him, sighing contentedly as she felt his arms wrapping automatically around her. "Please...don't? I..."

"Jean, you need-"

"Nothing," she spat, her patience wearing thin. "Just hold me, okay? I just need...this, right now."

         Scott simply nodded, pulling her against him in a loose, but firm, embrace. Slowly, her body relaxed and her breathing evened out, to the point that the redhead could hardly feel the nauseous pressure built up in her stomach any longer. The blessed silence remained unbroken as Scott played back the events of everything that happened in the past few hours. He figured this must've something to do with her parents. 

"You're upset, over your parents, aren't you?"

         Slowly, Jean's eyes fluttered open as she stared at him curiously. Scott continued. "I'm going to take a shot in the dark here, but I think you think they abandoned you?" Despite what he said, Scott knew he was spot on – the understanding the two built between each other worked both ways, not just one.

         Jean looked away, tears spilling down her face. "They did," she squeaked, choking back a sob. "I called - no one answered. They don't love me anymore. God, why don't they love me anymore? I always do what they say, and try my very best, and-"

"Jean," Scott hushed, his voice throaty with concern as he brushed a finger over her lips. "They can't pick you up tomorrow, because there's no _car._ From what I've been told, they were in a car accident."

"What? Are they okay?"

"The Professor has been pretty vague, but it seems that they suffered only minor injuries. A few cuts and bruises, otherwise they're fine." He took a deep breath, exhaling equally slowly. "So...how are you feeling? You look like somebody you knew just died."

         To his horror, Jean started to cry again. "I-I'm sorry, I'm-such a-a dumb ass. I must look l-like a co-complete idiot, and I'll u-understand completely if you d-don't want to be m-my-friend a-anymore a-and-" 

"Whoa, relax Jean," Scott leaned over and tucked a damp lock of scarlet behind her ear, cupping her face fondly. Coaxing her tears away with a soft touch, he was a bit surprised when she closed her eyes and leaned into his hands, almost purring, shockingly, in...relief? Contentment? It was hard to tell. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered sadly.

"What in the hell for?"

"For being such a burden, and a crybaby."

         Scott groaned lightly and hugged her, remembering what she said on the flight home. "Hey, you're just learning to use your powers. And you have two - I only have one. It's easier for me."

"Scott-"

"Let's get you cleaned up, and in bed, and we could talk later, okay?"

         She moaned in protest when he got up and turned on the tap, leaving her sitting on the cold tiled-floor of the bathroom by herself. _No, not alone again. Please, Slim, don't leave me alone again_. 

"Whoa, chill out. I'm right here." Scott helped her to her feet before handing her a cup of water. "Here, take a sip of this. Then spit it out." He gracefully lifted her up above the sink as Jean spat out the water.

"I feel like shit," she muttered sleepily, swaying into his shoulder. Her hand found its way autonomously to her head. "It...huge...hurts..." Jean felt Scott's fingers brush over her lips as he hushed her softly. 

"I bet you do," Scott whispered, cleaning her face off with a damp cloth. "Glad I'm not a telepath." Wrapping a large, fluffy towel around her shoulders, he swiftly scooped her up in his arms and carried his friend to her bedroom.

"Jean...sorry to say this...but you need to lose some weight."

         She snuggled her head into his neck, the slight stutter in his steps the only thing keeping her from falling asleep in his arms. Thus, Jean didn't see him blush. "Scott Summers, I do not need to lose weight. Just because you're 5' 7, and 100 lb of skin and bones...are you saying I'm fat?"

_No, I think you are beautiful_, Scott wanted to say (safe behind mental shields), but bit his lip. In his opinion, he was **_way_** too young to be thinking mushy thoughts like that. Instead, Scott replied, "No, I said you needed to lose weight...and I'm 140," he added, groaning as he twisted his upper body to walk sideways through the doorway of her bedroom.

"Whatever," Jean mumbled as he tucked her into gently to bed. He stayed by her bedside for a while, before deciding to retreat to his room. She was almost asleep when a crack of lightning jolted her awake. The redhead opened her eyes just in time to see Scott walking away before stopping him mid-stride with a stronger than usual, and certainly unnecessary, telekinetic grip. Scott turned around in surprise.

"Jean?"

"Stay Scott," she pleaded, clutching her blanket fearfully. The redhead didn't like thunderstorms - and clowns. Jean hated clowns.

"I'm sorry, but I can't. It's against the rules." He turned around to walk away, but jumped visibly when another roar of thunder tore through the skies. Suddenly, he heard laughter. Scott turned back to Jean to see her absolutely beside herself, laughing so hard that he was sure that her face would cramp up tomorrow morning.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"You," she choked out, trying hard to suppress another fit of giggles. "You're afraid of lightning," her voice sung out, each word a note dragged out in a surprisingly annoying tone that was meant to tease the boy she saw as her best friend.

"No I'm not," Scott scoffed haughtily, dismissing the idea as absolutely ridiculous. As if on cue, another crack of thunder called his bluff, sending Jean into another bout of laughter.

"Yes you are. Fearless Summers is afraid of a little lightning," Jean teased.

"It's the thunder, not the lightning," Scott sighed defeatedly. Damn, he should've been use to those overcharged bolts of electricity by now, especially since they were Storm's main offensive weapon. But everytime...everytime he heard its resounding roar in the sky, an image of a burning plane with two people clinging to each other's arms in its stricken frame flashed before his eyes, reminding him of things that could've been, would've been, should've been - it went on. Logan had told him once that he needed to quit looking behind him, and start looking forward; otherwise, his life might just flash by and he'll miss it. Looking at his friend, Scott realized that there were some things that were beyond his control, and that maybe this was the way it was meant to be. 

         Jean smiled, nudging a bit over the bed to make more room. "Come here," she commanded gently, coaxing Scott towards her with her hand. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Scott complied, making his way slowly across the room. When he stepped close enough, the redhead gently grabbed his wrist and dragged him onto the mattress, resting her head companionably on his shoulder as exhaustion gradually overtook her.

"I'll just warn you now, Jean, if you pull any of your fancy moves on me and try to take advantage of my innocence, I'll scream," Scott warned, pulling the blanket over her shoulders as he made himself comfortable beside her.

         Jean laughed, glad that he was developing a sense of humour, however dry it might be. "Goodnight, Slim," she whispered, so softly that Scott could barely hear her. All her doubts, insecurities and fears melted away as he pulled her closer in a tight embrace.

"'Night Jean," Scott murmured beside her ear, threading his fingers through her soft hair. With a contented sigh, Jean eagerly drifted into her dreams, satisfied that she would not be left alone tonight.  


	12. Chapter 12

NOTE: Okay, just to clear up any confusion, Scott and Jean are both 14, or turning 14. They are both 5'7.          Anyway, this is getting more like a history on the X-men, not just Scott and Jean. I got a bit carried away with the whole thing...sorry for taking up some of the JOTT airtime. 

Summary: Scott and Jean take a look at their past as the two find solace in the beauty of a winter wonderland. 

Pairing (s): Scott/Jean

Rating for this Chapter: PG-13 

**Chapter 12   ******

         Trapped in that realm between fantasy and reality, Jean rolled over and snuggled up to the large mass of heat residing beside her, taking a large portion of the blanket in the process. Her shoulders were getting cold, and her hands reached up to the exposed skin on instinct. To her surprise and much delight, the redhead felt two tendrils of warmth snake around her shoulders, pulling her closer even as Jean nestled her cheek on her soft pillow. The comforting contrast between the cool of the mattress and the warmness of Scott produced almost another reality that she never wanted to leave. Here, she was alive, yet the world was ruled by her dreams, not fears. With the coming of the sun and the arrival of another day, the little girl slid back under the covers, wishing that morning would never come.

         Nonetheless, soft rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains and fell upon her face, illuminating her face in a pleasant, subtle glow. At the morning song of birds chirping to each other in the forest trees, Jean slowly woke up (reluctantly) from her dreams. Groaning in stiffness, she stretched out her arms and legs, only to knee a forgotten Scott in the leg. With a start, he cried out in pain, clutching his leg tightly as his Charlie-horse worsened.

"Jean?" he gasped out, his teeth clenched forcefully together. With one hand, he groped his face blindly for his glasses, finding them still there. Opening his eyes, Scott's breath caught in his throat as he saw Jean sheepishly grinning back at him apologetically.

"Hi."

"Hi," Scott replied, looking around. It took a while for the fact that this wasn't his room to register in his drowsy brain, sleepily piecing together everything that happened last night. He turned back to look at the girl beside him, now propped up on one elbow.

"How's the leg?" Jean asked lightly.

         Scott drew level with her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "It's been better," he admitted, wincing in pain. Another few inches higher, and he would be in trouble..."Remind me never to piss you off. You have one mean kick."

"I practice," the redhead grinned wickedly. She collapsed back onto her pillow, staring up at him through shining, emerald eyes.

"What is it?" Scott asked, yawning.

"Thanks." She knew he knew what she meant. 

"Forget about it."

         Jean shivered as a cool morning breeze swept through an open window, the carpet below it was damp with rain. _Whoops._ Pulling Scott down beside her, she burrowed into his arms clumsily. He was warmer than the blanket. "Okay," she whispered softly. "But you shouldn't have stayed with me. I must've looked like a mess."

"Yeah, you did," Scott replied smugly. _That_ earned him a cold glare. "But what did you want me to do? Leave you unconscious on the bathroom floor, covered in your own puke?" 

"Hmm, how charming," Jean smiled, her brain regurgitating fuzzy images of Scott trying to comfort her as best he could as she vomited in the bathroom. With Scott, actions spoke more than words ever could. "You don't have to be so...uptight all the time, you know? It won't kill you to let your guards down once in a while."

"It's alright. I like it better this way."

"I'm sure you do." She took a deep breath, drifting off again despite herself at the feel of his body nestled next to his. Strangely enough, it didn't feel like sleeping beside a boy or another person. In fact, sleeping beside Scott was like sleeping beside a teddy bear or her stuffed tiger – she felt completely safe and comforted. _Teddy-Scott_...

         His eyes wondered to the clock sitting on her desk. "Oh shit! It's almost eight!" he exclaimed, scrambling quickly out of bed.

"Yeah, so?" Jean asked, surprised.

"The Prof is probably already having breakfast downstairs, and 'Ro is probably up in the attic working on her plants." He stopped by her doorway, making sure the coast was clear before slowly turning around. "You go downstairs in half an hour, and I'll go down in about ten minutes. That way, they might not suspect anything." With that, he stealthily sprinted down the hall, leaving Jean all by herself in her room.

         At first, she was surprised. Then, the redhead became very irritated. Jean Grey didn't like being bossed around.  

***   

         With a single wave of her hand, a tiny formation of clouds, not even two feet wide, appeared level with her eyes, raining upon her plants fresh, crystal water that trickled smoothly over their healthy green leaves. Finished, Ororo smiled satisfactorily. Only a few people would give their students an entire level of a mansion simply devoted to gardening. The attic was the perfect place – after the Professor had it refurbished, with all the necessary provisions and giant windows that provided an ample source of sunlight, the woman had been speechless. The cost had been tremendous.

         Humming softly a Kenyan song, she continued on for several minutes before noticing with curiosity that her watch seemed to be broken. It was acting very strangely; only just before, it had read 7:52 a.m., but now the hour hand was reading eleven. Then, to her much surprise and fear, her gardening tools started to fly, metal surfaces attracting and repelling each other in random directions. A metal spade lifted into the air before shooting straight at her. Gasping out in shock, she quickly shot it down and every other airborne object with small bolts of electricity before escaping upwards through a large window in the ceiling.

Magneto. It had to be him.

         Floating above the mansion, she spotted his silver orb lying on the grass on the front lawn of the Institute, with the carcasses of various laser and missile turrets lying nearby.  Not good. Facing off against Magneto was not how she wanted to start off a Sunday. The fact that she didn't know where he is just increased the odds to his favour...for all she knew, Ororo could be walking into an ambush.

"I've only come here to talk." Surprised, Storm spun around, seeing her opponent floating about ten metres in front and slightly below her in civilian guise. His hands were held out in front of him in a manner of peace.

         She ignored him. "You are not welcomed here!" With that, the weather goddess sent a bolt of lightning in his direction, which slammed against an invisible wall. His magnetic shield crackled with built up energy as her attack threatened to overwhelm it. Magneto noted that she had become much stronger under Xavier's coaching than the last time they met as he expertly dissipated the electricity before it enveloped his entire shield.

"I will not tell you again. I_only_want_to_talk!" he snarled. She attacked again; this time, the man elected to dodge it.

         Frustrated, the skies darkened as Storm summoned a thunderstorm. Lightning erupted from the clouds around her as a silver mist rolled over her eyes, her white hair swaying lightly in the mild breeze. "You come here, our home, and attack our mansion defences, then expect us to believe that your intentions are peaceful?" she asked calmly, yet dubiously.

"I said I was not going to repeat myself," Erik replied coolly. If this girl wanted a fight, then so be it. He could take her and Weapon X down by himself if necessary.

"Fine." With that, two huge lightning bolts thundered from the clouds, spiralling down towards Magneto, who was...smiling? Instantly, his eyes glowed gold as he magnetically altered their paths at the last second. Ororo gasped in shock, before realization hit her. Lightning, after all, were simply electrons, and completely vulnerable to his magnetic powers. Guiding them back around 180 degrees with his hands, Magneto twirled their blue, snake-like bodies around Storm several times, baiting them around her like a snake circling around its prey, before redirecting them straight into the ground.

         The golden glow in his eyes died away as Erik powered down. "That was to prove a point. If I was here to fight, you would've been defeated already." Reluctantly, Storm powered down as well, her daunting thunderclouds fading away as she swallowed her pride.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"As I said before. I simply want to talk with my old friend, Charles. Is that so hard to believe?"

         She glared at him suspiciously, flying down to the ground. "I assume that you won't take no for an answer?"

A wry smile crept to his lips. Despite having only seen each other during the few skirmishes they had, Ororo knew him well. "No, I will not."

"Right this way, then," she replied, leading him inside.

***

         Jean raced down the stairs exactly eleven minutes after Scott had left her room and 19 minutes earlier than when Scott had ordered her too. Hair still damp from her rushed shower, the telepath found the Professor and Scott watching TV in silence in the common room. Both heads turned to the doorway even before she walked in – one because of his telepathic powers, the other because of his blind hearing.

         If Scott was surprised, or angry, to see Jean, he didn't show it. His expression didn't change at all as the redhead walked in and enveloped the Professor in a big hug.

"Why, good morning to you too, my dear," the man greeted, laughing softly. As far as he was concerned, with Scott as his only student, such gestures of affection were unprecedented.

"Morning, Professor." Looking over his shoulder, the girl stared intently at her best friend, whose attention by now had returned back to the TV. "What are you guys watching?"

"Sports," Scott replied coldly, not bothering to hide the irate edge in his voice. There was a long silence as the Professor pulled away from Jean's embrace, before a knowing grin broke over his face. Jean simply stared at Scott, eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Scott," the Professor began, pausing as his student turned to look at him. "It's okay. I already know that you spent the night in Jean's room. But I am not angry, nor am I really surprised. You two have been very good friends from the start, and I trust that you are both responsible and mature enough to be held accountable for your own actions. However, if Logan was here," he chuckled. "I would understand. But, this time, consider yourself lucky. Breakfast will be at ten." 

         With that, he left, leaving the two alone to sort things out. Scott turned his attention back to Sportsnet. "Yeah, consider yourself lucky, Miss Grey," he sneered.

         Her jaw almost dropped to the floor in shock. "_What!?_ So it is _my_ fault that you stayed in _my_ room?"

"Oh no, of course not," Scott replied, sarcasm dripping from every word. "You only **_begged_** me to stay, even deciding to stop me from leaving your room with your **_TK_**. No, to even _think_ this was **_your_** idea..."

"Well you weren't exactly **_complaining_** yesterday!" she shot back.

"Neither were you!" he responded hotly. To their embarrassment, they both started to blush. "I face ten times the consequences you do for what happened yesterday. You're not the one who'll get _disembowelled_ if Logan found out."

"You stubborn dumbass! Everything's always about you, isn't it? My **_mother_** will give Logan a run for his money on a _bad_ day! I'll be neck deep in shit if she ever found out!"

         Scott stared at her blankly, weakly pointing a finger at her. "You said...You swore."

"Yeah, so?" the redhead demanded angrily, hands on her hips.

"You just don't seem like the kind of girl that-" he stopped himself, getting back on topic. "Why would your mother be mad?"

"I don't know _why,_" Jean growled annoyingly. "I just do. Maybe it has something to do with my telepathy and perhaps _living_ with her for the past few years?" He rolled his eyes, but their effect was lost behind the wall of ruby lenses.

"Then stay here. Enrol at the Institute," he encouraged, ignoring the television. "Or do you not like it here? You were crying your eyes out yesterday when...you know."

         Jean looked away sadly. "I...want to," she admitted softly.

"But?"

"But I still want to be normal. Living here, it's just a constant reminder that I'm not," she sighed.

         Scott got up off his seat and hugged her. "But you'll still be normal here. Think about it. We'll go to Bayville High here in the fall, surrounded by normal people. I'll always run home quickly after school to be on time for Logan's afternoon DR sessions, while you'll be doing homework after you finish beating off the football players with a stick. If you don't become an X-men-I mean X-girl- that is. You'll become popular, people would love you, guys will follow you around wherever you go, there will be no problems with powers, evil mutants or mad scientists...how much more normal can it get?"

         Jean laughed, obviously flattered. "Ah, but that assumes that I will be popular, and everything you said will happen."

"You will, and they will," Scott said with a tone of finality that left no room for protest. "Hard to believe as it is, people become smarter in high school, and may just realize how wonderful you really are." Pause. "Stay Jean. Start with a clean slate. No more teasing, no more weekends wasted...plus the entire football team at your feet, yours to command. Hell, you might even date the star quarter-back, that tall, handsome, funny, popular, and incredibly stupid guy with blonde hair."

"Gosh, are you trying to tempt me, Slim?" she laughed.   

"Uh, yeah. You bet I am." They sat down on Scott's couch.

"I'll think about it," Jean promised, flashing him her best smile. "Am I...Do you think I'm really _that_ pretty?"

"You really don't think so? Or do you just want to be flattered?"

         Jean blushed as red as her hair. "Maybe both?" she offered weakly. The redhead quickly got back on topic. "But people really think I'm ugly back at school, and they're right. I mean, I'm 5'7, taller than most guys, I have these freckles, my skin is all pale and pasty...they make fun of me all the time, Scott." Her eyes started to water as she looked at her feet sadly.

         Sitting down on the nearest couch and pulling Jean down beside him, he gently grasped her chin, tilting it so that her eyes were level with his. "Hmm," Scott paused, turning her face one way then the other. "Yeah, I can see what your _friends_ at school are saying. I see how they can pick apart your looks and make fun of them."

"You can?" Her stomach twisted in a tight knot.

"Yeah, Red, but looks aren't really meant to be taken apart. You're beautiful together – ugh, I don't know how to explain it." Instead, Scott just projected his thoughts to her, leaving the redhead blushing furiously. "That's better. Yeah...in a couple of years time, you may even become a model if you wanted to. Yeah...I can definitely see it happening."

         There was a period of awkward silence as Jean's colour slowly faded back to normal. "I don't know how to respond to that, Slim," she admitted, hugging her knees to her chest. Nobody had ever thought she was attractive before...wait, that wasn't true. She caught a lot of boys from her school staring at her, but for some reason never made a move because she wasn't in the 'in' crowd, so to speak. What troubled her more was the fact that she knew Scott was telling the truth; you don't ask for his opinion unless you want a truthful, and sometimes painfully blunt, answer.

"Jean, you don't have to," Scott replied, his attention once again diverted to the television. "Just answer me this: is that – this – why you were so upset on Friday? Because you kept being made fun of at school?"

"Yeah, more or less, among other things."

"Is it because they think you are a mutant?"

"They do, but it's not in a way you think. It's like when you think the happy guy that sits next to you do drugs because he's always so hyper and high; that sort of logic. They don't _really_ think I'm a mutant. Oh, and because I'm smart. Nerds, even people just labelled as one, generally don't have that many friends."

"I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." Scott rolled his eyes again. "If it helps, I'll beat the crap out of the people who make fun of you if you want me too," he offered.

"You'll beat up girls?" Jean chuckled, faking shock.

"No," Scott confessed awkwardly. He looked around, as if to see if anyone was listening, before leaning in to whisper something beside her ear. "but I can blow up their lockers. My powers are good for something." He felt a wave of satisfaction as Jean laughed happily. He liked making her laugh.  

"You're the best."

"I know. How 'bout a movie before breakfast? I'm pretty sure you'll find nothing interesting about football anyway. We've got...How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days, the, uh, Hot Chick, Pirates of the Caribbean, SWAT..."

***

         As Charles Xavier rolled out of the common room, he came face-to-face with the one man that struck fear into his heart, as well as friendship. It had been so long, and he'd never thought that Magneto would ever return to this mansion with anything but destruction on his mind. However, Erik wasn't wearing his telementium helmet, which the Professor took as a good sign. A sign of peace. There was a long silence, as the two men regarded each other carefully, before Charles finally found his voice. "Welcome, my old friend. What brings you here to my humble abode?" he greeted, gesturing to the rest of the mansion.

"You always were the cheerful one, Charles. Where is she?"

"I'm sorry, Magnus, but I'm afraid I cannot allow you to see Jean. You see, your presence is quite intimidating, and I'm afraid she's terrified enough already as she is. Would you like some breakfast?" he asked cheerfully, trying to keep the mood light. 

         With a low growl, the man looked away arrogantly. "You didn't tell me she was so powerful, Charles," Magneto said calmly, picking up a small glass statue and turning it about in his hand. "I thought we had an agreement?"

         Charles sighed. "Indeed, we did. But we still don't know how powerful she can become, merely that she has the _potential_. In any case, I knew that you figured out as much from what you picked up from Mystique and Destiny."

         Magneto brushed past him and stopped just outside the common room, seeing a boy whisper something into a girl's - must've been Jean - ear, eliciting a warm spell of laughter that bounced merrily off the empty walls of the mansion. She didn't look all that threatening, but you can never judge a book by its cover, he supposed. 

"So, Charles, tell me. What exactly did Irene show you?"

"Nothing you already don't know, or suspect, my friend," he lied. The man was sure that his friend knew nothing of Phoenix and Scott.

"Damnit, Charles, give me a straight answer! Is the honesty typical of our old friendship gone?" he asked coldly. His jaw clenched and his grey eyes flickered angrily. "I hope that is not the case."

         Elbows resting on his wheelchair's armrests, he folded his fingers on top of each other under his chin. "Perhaps. Is there something you want to tell _me_, Magnus? What have you been up to last night?"

         Unexpectedly, Erik started to laugh. "Discovered. You were always pretty quick to figure me out, Xavier. But you would be pleased to know that I did not kill them, merely destroyed their car. I still have your interests in mind, and consider them...once in a while." There was a pause as they watched Jean jump off the sofa and tackle Scott to the ground. "I don't want to be your enemy. I don't want to be their enemy (gesturing to the children), either. Why don't you join me? Together, we can achieve so much more!"

"We've already discussed this. As lucrative as your offer may seem, I must once again decline from it. I do not share your belief of mutant supremacy over humans. In fact, I am radically opposed to it. Please...don't ask me again, my friend." 

"Always the peacemaker, huh?" Magneto grinned wryly. The two adults continued to watch the sight of Scott and Jean rolling, wrestling and kicking each other on the floor. "Brings back memories of the good old days, doesn't it Charles? Women...I swear they are workers of Satan." Pause. "Tell me, did you pick up any thoughts or feelings from either of those two?"

         A warm smile graced the Professor's face. "Yes," he replied. "I would never probe their minds without permission, but sometimes, they do tend to broadcast their thoughts quite loudly. There's an attraction that exists between the two, more so on Scott's side, but only because Jean's a telepath and can occasionally pick up his feelings, whereas Scott is unable to. As of now, they are the best of friends - Jean typically offers emotional support if Scott starts to brood, while Scott helps her control her powers, and encourage their development. They fit quite well together, actually."

"I want to speak with her."

"Unless you want to test your mettle against several tonnes of dynamite, I beg the contrary. Especially if they manage to put two and two together and discover the true nature of your visit, and what you did...the special conditions that permitted it." He looked at Scott, who by now was on top of Jean tickling her to tears. "Scott is very...volatile. He tends to blast first and ask questions later."

         Magneto almost suggested that he could handle Scott if necessary, but refrained from it. He didn't want to fight another mutant unless he had to. Besides, he knew how much Charles was fond of the boy. "Fine, but on one condition." He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to conceal any hint of emotion. "You will take care of Wanda for me, will you?"

"Of course," Charles assured, glad that he could help. He didn't think that it was wise that his best friend left his only daughter in a mental asylum, but he was in no position to meddle in their affairs. He could only offer support if necessary. Erik gave him a small smile, before walking away towards the main entrance and letting himself out. Charles Xavier had a feeling that the next time they met, it would not be on such friendly terms.

*** 

_Damnit_, Scott thought exasperatedly as he struggled with an angry redhead, _I knew I shouldn't have read out 'Serendipity.'_ With one disk in hand, he battled fiercely against Jean to reach the DVD player and put his disk in before she put in hers.

"I am not watching some stupid romance flick!" Scott shouted, struggling vainly to fend off Jean's assault of floating pillows and cushions.

"Well, maybe I don't feel like watching SWAT either!" She gasped out in dismay as he blasted through the barrier of cushions, and rushed to pin him to the ground just a few feet before the TV. Feathers were flying everywhere.

"I live here! I should choose!" 

"Over my dead body!"

"Consider it done!" Scott shouted back. Accidentally, his hand brushed gently over her stomach, drawing out a shocked laugh out from the back of her throat. _No way!_ He almost smiled - it was over. He was going to win...if he could just gain control of the situation for one moment...

_Nope_, Scott thought, landing with an oomph! as Jean wrestled her way on top. She was more nimble than he was.

"I win," the redhead declared triumphantly, catching her breath. 

         Scott looked at where she was holding both his wrists against the floor. "Hey, it ain't over until it's over. You still got to make your way to the TV." The redhead narrowed her eyes at him menacingly. Jean was pretty when she was angry. As she considered her situation, the grip on his arms loosened – it was all that Scott needed. In a flash, he had her on the floor beneath him.

"Ha!" Jean mocked, nodding towards the television. "You still can't make it without letting me go."

"You didn't tell me one very important thing, Miss Grey."

"What?" The calmness, and _confidence_, in Scott's voice was more daunting than his words.

"You're ticklish." Before the redhead knew it, she felt his fingers dancing lightly over the sheer fabric of her pj's, finding herself unable to hold back the squeal of laughter that ensued. She thrashed and squirmed about, doing whatever she could do to escape his grasp, but it was no use - he was sitting on her.

"Please..." Jean begged, giggling, laughing and crying at the same time. "Stop! _Stop!_"

"Repeat after me - We are watching SWAT."

"WearewatchingSWAT! _WearewatchingSWAT!_" Triumphant, Scott immediately stopped his relentless offensive and made his way to the DVD player unimpeded, leaving Jean sprawled over the carpet breathing heavily. He was just about to put in the CD when he turned around to see the redhead, a defeated look on her face, tossing _Serendipity_ onto the floor. His chest tightened up at the sight.

_I don't friggin' believe this._..he muttered, stretching over to grab the DVD box lying a few metres away. Just as he grasped its black, plastic surface, a slender hand reached out and held his wrist, stopping it from moving.

"It's okay. We can watch SWAT if you like," she told him, shooting him an appreciative smile.

"I don't feel like watching it anymore," he replied softly. 

"Well, I don't want to watch 'Serendipity' anymore either." There was a long, awkward silence as both stared into each other's eyes, or glasses. Realizing that she was still holding his wrist, Jean quickly let him go.

         It took them another fifteen minutes to decide, but, in the end, they watched both, together.  

****

**_*blinks* What? Scott can watch Sportsnet too. He's a guy, isn't he? What kind of a guy does not watch sports? Sheesh._**

**_Jen: You know what? You're absolutely right - Scott and Jean do come off as a bit too mature. I promise once they get more comfortable with each other, they'll start to be more immature. Or maybe being mature is the point - I have no freakin' idea right now ;)_**

**_Ahem. On the topic of sports, Jen, may I ask, what was the score the last time the Leafs played the Sens? I stopped watching after Ottawa scored five in a row ;)_**

**_Sorry, just *had* to say that :)_**


End file.
